


Unlikely Angel

by Merci



Category: Tekken
Genre: Angels, Angst, Cigarettes, Disturbing Themes, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gambling, Kissing, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Protagonist, Male-Female Friendship, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking, Violence, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-15
Updated: 2007-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 46
Words: 165,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merci/pseuds/Merci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hwoarang had his own problems to deal with, but when Jun Kazama approached him with an offer he couldn't refuse, he found himself in possession of powers he'd never asked for, and a promise to help his rival, Jin Kazama overcome the Devil that had recently overpowered him.  However, to counteract pure evil, he needed the power of pure good; the strength of an Angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I am making no profit from this fanfiction. I do not own Jin, Hwoarang, Angel, Devil Jin, Baek, or Tekken.
> 
> This project took around a year and a half to finish, and I'm so happy it's done. I focused a lot on plot in this project, developing Hwoarang's character (with the help of some OCs to explain some things and push him along on his quest) and then easing our favourite redhead into Jin's situation. If you're discovering this story for the first time, please enjoy and know that it is involved.
> 
> Thank you to Kat who was my lovely beta throughout this endeavour. Without you, this would not be what it is.
> 
> " _Angel/Devil's words inside Hwoarang/Jin's head_ "  
> ' _Hwoarang/Jin's thoughts_ '

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After watching Jin become overwhelmed by the Devil inside him, Jun struggles to find the perfect host for her powers.

Jin Kazama was consumed by darkness.  His nightmare burning inside him as the devil within taunted.  Laughed.  Caused him to thrash about in his dream state, so very desperate to throw off the oppressive voice and the black energies that threatened to consume him.  "Hate me," the voice echoed amidst the laughter.  "Curse me!  Give in to the anger!" 

Jin cried out, unable to block the voice from burning his ears, ringing through to his heart as he felt it wash over him.  Ringing true with the small part of his being that he'd fought against his whole life.

"Awake.  Kazama Jin!"  That voice woke him from the dream, but not the nightmare.  Jin stared down upon the face of his father, although Kazuya Mishima had given in to the devil him long ago.  They were the eyes of a devil that regarded him with almost glee from within the scarred but handsome face of his father.  Jin flexed his arms, restrained by the chains that suspended him high above the floorboards of Hon-Maru dojo.  He reigned in his right arm and the chains snapped with surprising ease and he fell to the floor, the darkness inside him welling forth at the thought of finally ending his accursed bloodline.

"You… if only you were dead!" he bellowed, letting the demon within him gain strength from his anger.  It was so easy.  He could kill himself once they were both dead.  He felt the surge of power fill him and he rushed at Kazuya.  "Once I kill you… it'll all be over!"

+++

Jun Kazama watched her son, Jin, fighting within Hon-Maru temple.  Hidden in the spaces between the air and ether she was powerless to stop him as he beat his father and grandfather to a pulp.  Even if she had her physical body, she doubted she'd be able to stop him when he was under the influence of the dark powers.

Since Jin's birth she'd known what lay dormant inside him.  She'd sensed it inside of Kazuya and had tried to save him from it, which in part resulted in Jin's conception.  However, the devil inside of Kazuya had already grown so strong that no matter how hard she tried, in the end he turned from her and she was left to bear Jin and raise him on her own.

She'd always been sensitive to the spirit energies of others and it grieved her when she sensed the same evil that turned Kazuya away was growing inside her unborn child.  She resolved to train him to withstand the temptation of that evil, to plant the seed of goodness that would blossom and overshadow the darkness until the vines of compassion choked off the evil roots planted by his father.

She'd planned it that way, but some things couldn't be avoided and she'd been separated from him.  Physically apart but never far she'd stayed with him in her bodiless state, encouraging him to grow strong spiritually, to be able to resist the pull of evil.  However, she'd become weaker in this state and the years passed and as she watched Jin fight his grandfather, unnoticed from within Hon-Maru, she knew that he'd be unreachable after this.  Devil had been given too much leeway and it was not a force that willingly backed down from a soul that was given so freely.  She'd always been over his shoulder, whispering encouragement and nurturing the goodness that her seed had contributed, but after this day… without a body, she would be too weak.

She willed her incorporeal form closer to the battle, taking hold of the golden Buddha that grinned serenely at the sight of Jin holding up his grandfather to strike a final blow.  She focused her thoughts on the gold, reflecting it towards Jin and broadcasting her image in one last ditch effort to subvert the evil that the devil was compelling him to do.

Her mind swelled with white light and she used up all the energy she could muster to appear to him, if only in his mind.  Pushing the black aura away from his eyes she flooded his senses with goodness and held her breath.

Well, she would have if she could.

Jin faltered.  His fist hovered in the air over the prostrate fighter, wavering as he stared at her, clearly unsure of what he was seeing.  He tightened his grip on his grandfather's body before dropping the old man to the floor and turning away from her.  A fragment of a smile turned the edge of his mouth up before he looked sternly at Heihachi.  "Thank my mother… Kazama Jun."

It was the last time she could directly intervene and he'd said as much to his grandfather.  She'd saved his life, but it would be the last time she could sway his intent to kill.

In the spirit plane she saw the devil inside her son engulf his form, its hollow laughter ringing out just for her.  "I hope the old man's life was worth it," it taunted.  "It's the last life he'll spare with your help.  Jin can't hear you anymore _mother_."  The name came out as a sneer and Jin turned and flew up to burst through the ceiling of the temple, leaving a shower of wood shards and black feathers falling to the ground behind him.  Amongst them she spied a single, white feather illuminated by the moonlight before it fell behind a flurry of black feathers.

Jun turned away, looking at the gold face of the serene Buddha.  She needed help. 

She'd promised that she'd keep him safe, no matter what.  "No matter what…" she said to herself.  But that was just the thing, she couldn't anymore.  She needed a body.  Someone that could get close to Jin now that Devil had closed him off to her.

The form she was in couldn't break through Devil's guard anymore.  The moment he'd come into contact with his father… she sighed, images of Kazuya flooding her mind and she wanted to weep in frustration. Had it been fair that her desire to help the older Mishima overcome his own evil had damned Jin to his father's fate?  No, she couldn't think such things.  Not now, it was too late to second guess herself.  
She breathed in deeply, the smell of candles and incense in the temple passing through her incorporeal body and closed her eyes.  With a flicker of a thought she let the room around her dissolve into light and she focused on the arena far below the temple.

She filtered through the arena, quickly gliding past the many bodies that were there to watch the spectacle, as well as the many that had come to compete.  Only a handful shone bright enough to attract her attention.  She opened her eyes, looking at the people she had to choose from.  There was always a diverse gathering at the tournaments.  So many people from all over came to compete, and it wasn't the promise of money or power that attracted them either.  Heihachi had hurt so many of them, and made a lot of enemies…

There was a woman who glowed brightly and Jun Kazama focused on her, gliding through the building until she could see her clearly.  She was just finishing in the shower and was making her way to the lockers.  Jun had seen her before at one of the previous tournaments when she herself had been competing or… no, this woman looked similar but wasn't the same person.  A relative perhaps?  She concentrated for a moment, bringing to mind the list of fighters' names that had been competing at the most recent tournament.  This was… Julia Chang.  Yes, she recognized the energy about her.  It was so similar to Michelle's.  The older woman had always been so in tune with her surroundings, Julia appeared to be the same.  Jun focused on strengthening her presence.

Julia stopped towel-drying her hair and looked around, her eyes wide as she appeared to have sensed the new spirit energy.  Jun wasn't solid yet, but Julia's eyes stared in her direction, as if she knew there was someone there but just couldn't see it.  Jun brightened, this woman had the strength of spirit that she needed.  Julia could handle Angel's powers and defeat the Devil inside Jin before it could gain any more strength. 

While Jun couldn't appear fully to people, she could partially pull their consciousness into her level.  In a sense it was as if they were dreaming, although they were still wide awake.  She reached out to probe the boundaries of Julia's aura, connecting with the levels that dealt with her dreaming mind and intuition.  She instantly found herself amongst a sea of trees that clustered around rocky terrain.  The locker room had vanished as Jun was pulled into the inner mind of Julia Chang. 

The dream-winds carried through the branches of the tall pines and whipped Jun's short black hair around her face.  This woman's spirit was strong and focused.  Jun looked around, seeing the woman standing further up the mountain on an outcropping of rocks.  "Hello, Julia," Jun said, approaching her.  The tournament was in the real world, but in this dreamscape the woman was completely different.  Not different… natural.  She wore relaxed jeans that had seen wear and tear with a farm, or some sort of outdoor activity.  Her thick, brown hair was separated into two braids, with several feathers tucked in between the ropes that reached down her back.  She was beautiful and, like Jun, she probably relied heavily on her spirituality while she fought.

The moment Jun had called upon the dream state, the woman was aware and ready for her.  "Who are you?" she demanded, defensive, but not raising her fists.

"I don't mean to hurt you," Jun said, spreading her arms wide to show vulnerability and that she indeed did not mean to attack.  "I… need help."

The woman relaxed a fraction, "I cannot sense any evil in you… what is it that you want?" She turned away from Jun, looking out over the tree line that spread before them.  She closed her eyes and drew an imaginary breath.

"There was a man who fought in the tournament… Jin Kazama."  Julia said nothing so Jun continued.  "There is an evil inside him that I have been fighting against for a very long time… but I cannot do it as I am now.  Not anymore."

"He's gotten stronger," Julia said matter-of-factly.  "I could sense something evil growing stronger a little while ago, although I didn't know who it was.  You're saying that the darkness in him finally won out?"

"Not exactly… he's my son… he's good, but my powers are too weak without a body to house them.  I need your help, I can give you-"

"I'm sorry," Julia said, cutting Jun off as she turned to face her.  She had a look of sadness on her face, but her mouth was tight with resolve.  "I cannot accept your power.  Your son… I fought with him in the fourth round.  While we fought, I could sense that presence inside him… even with your powers I doubt that I could get close enough to save him.  Jin is not someone who opens up to people easily."  She brushed an errant strand of hair from her face and took a step towards Jun.  "I'm sure there is someone who can help you," she put her hand on Jun's arm in a comforting gesture.  "But I'm afraid that he is a closed book to me.  Perhaps he could be reached by someone that the devil does not suspect is trying to help him, although I don't know who that could be.  A friend, or someone who he is comfortable with?  A familiar face?  I'm very sorry for your situation, but I'm not someone who can help you."

Jun nodded and Julia pulled her hand away.  While someone with strong spiritual powers would be able to interact with Angel, a stranger wouldn't know Jin enough to get close to him.  She just had to find someone Jin could trust and Devil wouldn't be concerned about.  "Thank you," she said, releasing the dream state and letting the scenery fade back to the locker room.  Julia shook her head once as if to clear it and returned to getting dressed.  She may not have been able to help Jun directly, but she had given her some valuable information.  Jin could be reached, but she'd have to be more selective with who she picked instead of simply choosing someone with strong spiritual powers.

Jun Kazama closed her eyes again, focusing on feeling her son's energy.  He was many miles away, feeding Devil's destructive urges.  She would have to find someone closer to him, perhaps closer in age?  Her eyes flashed bright as she remembered someone she'd seen following her son around.  Someone from school!  Of course!  She spread her invisible wings across the stadium, feeling everybody's presence echoing through the mental feathers.  The strength of the fighters was easier to sort through when she narrowed it down; young, female.  Very young.  Yes, she found her.  Opening her eyes again she had moved to a section of the bleachers where a young Chinese girl was chatting with another girl.  Her strength of spirit was not as strong as Julia's, but Jun recognized her as one of Jin's schoolmates. 

Ling Xiaoyu swung her arms about in a very animated fashion as she explained some aspect of her fight to her friend.  Jun wasn't completely focused on reality and couldn't perceive audible conversations or sound clearly.  It wouldn't be prudent to interact with Xiaoyu's mind while she was in the presence of another.  She'd have to wait until the girl was alone, or possibly asleep.  She patiently waited for a moment to approach Xiaoyu and ask for her help.

It seemed that Xiaoyu was joined at the hip of this girl because they never left each other's side until late in the evening when she returned to her hotel room and prepared for bed.  Jun waited patiently for the girl to make some phone calls and then crawl into bed.  It wasn't long before her breathing evened out and she was sleeping.  Jun reached into her dreams and let herself become swept away in them.

It was always more difficult to interact with people through dreams since they were so erratic and changed too frequently.  It was difficult to maintain a sense of equilibrium let alone carry on a conversation, and more often than not the dreams weren't even remembered.  Jun only hoped that Xiaoyu's mind was receptive to her presence.  She was running out of time.

Jun closed her eyes against the barrage of random images that flew at her from all sides, only opening them when she felt her feet touch something solid.  She was in a small, rectangular device that she realized was a gondola.  Xiaoyu was at the other side of the car with Panda.  The girl hadn't noticed her presence yet; she was too busy trying to keep her balance on top of a giant disco ball that Panda was pushing around the floor of the car.  Jun looked out the window, seeing a plain mountain landscape beneath them, but the edges grew fuzzy and disappeared a kilometer or two out.  It seemed that Xiaoyu's attention was in the car itself.

Jun sighed; it wasn't the most ideal situation, but the scenario seemed stable enough for her to approach the girl.  She took a few steps toward the disco ball, side stepping the glass orb as Panda gave it a swat and it rolled past her.  "Hello, Xiaoyu," she said, anxious to get to the point of her visit.  The more time that past, the stronger Devil became within Jin.

"Miharu!"  Xiaoyu exclaimed, leaping off the ball and throwing her arms around Jun.  The startled woman looked at her reflection in the window and saw that she appeared as the girl's friend from after the tournament. 

"Great," she muttered under her breath and fought to change her form.  She may have been a separate consciousness, but it was Xiaoyu's dream, and the girl was subconsciously applying her own rules and shapes.  Taking Jun's unfamiliar form and giving it a recognizable exterior.

"Miharu!  We're going to the moon!" Xiaoyu announced, releasing Jun and rushing back to Panda.  The scenery changed and the gondola car morphed into the inside of a spaceship; the folly of working in someone else's dreams.  At least Xiaoyu was aware of her presence!

"I'm not your friend, Xiaoyu," Jun tried to explain,.  "My name is Jun.  I need your help."

"So do I," the girl said suddenly, jumping into one of the pilot seats and punching a few buttons on the console.  "We're under attack!"  At the announcement a loud siren began to blare from somewhere in the cabin and the ship rocked to the side, supposedly after being hit by enemy fire.  Xiaoyu punched another button and a panel slid aside, revealing manual controls rising from the console.  "I'm gonna have to do this manually.  Hold on!"

Jun lost her footing and fell against Panda as the ship rocked to the other side and the two of them fell against the wall.  The large panda cushioned her fall and she quickly climbed to her feet.  Everything on the ship appeared to be bolted down in one manner or another and Jun held onto these control panels and seats for stability as she made her way towards Xiaoyu who was having fun flying the ship out of the way of enemy fire.

"Miharu!  Take the guns!  We've gotta kill these things before they blow up my amusement park!"  Xiaoyu indicated the seat next to her and Jun climbed in, strapping herself down as Xiaoyu jerked the controls again, turning the ship upside down and sending Panda tumbling on her head.

Jun punched a few buttons in front of her, but she found it really didn't take much skill to blast the enemy ships out of the skies.  It was Xiaoyu's dream, after all, and in her dreams she always won.  "Good shooting-" Xiaoyu started once she'd stabilized the ship again.  "Miharu?  Why are you wearing someone else's face?"

Jun unbuckled the straps on her seat and climbed out, happy to have a chance to tell the girl why she was there, although she was starting to doubt the girl's ability to handle what she was about to offer.  She really was just a child…

"I'm not Miharu," Jun said.  "This is your dream, but I'm not part of it.  I need your help."  Short and precise.  She was running out of time.

"Really?" the girl's brow crinkled upwards and she thought for a moment, her spaceship controls forgotten.  "This isn't how my usual trips to the moon happen."

"I'm sorry that I've visited you like this.  It's rude of me to intrude into your dreams, but I'm running out of time and I didn't know how to contact you otherwise!"

"Oh, neat!"  Xiaoyu said, as if suddenly realizing the situation.  "I'm dreaming!  That means that I can control what happens?  So cool!"  She started punching buttons on the console, seeming to half-understand what Jun was telling her.  "Alright, I want us to go to the moon, and I want my theme park there!  Everything will be so light, I wanna float!"

Jun was growing impatient.  At any other time she would have calmly enjoyed the girl's enthusiasm for lucid dreaming, but she didn't have the luxury of a social visit in the girl's mind.  She had to get through to this girl and make her listen.  Jun looked at the display screen, seeing that it covered half the wall and would be suitable to catch Xiaoyu's attention.  She calmed her mind, ridding it of her worries and only filled it with the task at hand.  She drew up her memories of Jin's fight with Heihachi and Kazuya.  The awakening of the Devil inside him and then projected it towards the screen.  She may not have been able to manipulate the other's dream, but she could add content to it.

The monitor showed a view of the outside of the ship; a plain star-field with the occasional bright light passing by.  Then it flickered under Jun's influence and changed to the fight scene from earlier that day.    Xiaoyu's head shot up and she leapt from her seat to get a closer view.

Jun focused on remembering the events that had happened to Jin at the end of the tournament.  How his grandfather had kidnapped him and chained him up in his elaborate ceremony, only to be awakened by his father, Kazuya Mishima.  She showed Xiaoyu the fight between the two men and how it was only her powers that had stopped Jin from killing his grandfather.  Xiaoyu's attention was wholly focused on the screen, and when the display was over, Jun explained her need for help before any more of Xiaoyu's dream events could take over.  "Because the devil inside Jin has been strengthened I cannot influence him anymore.  He can only feel the evil inside and it will consume him.  I am not strong enough to hold it back anymore.  Not in this form.  I need help."

"And you need my help?" Xiaoyu asked excitedly.

"I was hoping you could," Jun confessed.  She was so very tired.  She didn't have much energy left to look for someone else if Xiaoyu declined.

"Oh, I don't like thinking of that demon hurting Jin," Xiaoyu started, her eyes shifting to look at her pet.  "But I can't!  I can't leave Panda!"

"What?" Jun asked, surprised.  The girl may not have been her first choice, but she was a good one.  "Why not?"

"Panda!"  Xiaoyu said, calling her dream-version of her friend and bodyguard to her.  "She's in love!"

"Well, that's nice-"

"And she wants babies, so I asked a Doctor I met at the tournament to help her!"

"That's nic- wait, what?  You gave your bear to a Doctor you just met?"

"No, silly, you're not listening.  Panda has a boyfriend, but they can't have babies because he's a grizzly and she's a panda.  Kuma knows a Doctor Boskono- or, whatever his name is.  Anyways, he said he can fix them so they can have babies.  Panda is with him right now, and I need to take care of her after the procedure."

Jun didn't know what to say.  Xiaoyu had explained it so fast and so quickly.  It was so much to absorb, and she was starting to feel like she couldn't save Jin from his father's fate.

"I'm really sorry, Jun," Xiaoyu said after a moment.  "I'd like to help Jin, but Panda is my best friend.  I can't leave her, no matter how much I want to help Jin.  What kind of friend would that make me?"

Jun nodded.  Xiaoyu had her own life.  She couldn't be expected to drop it because Jun asked her to, but still… her thoughts returned to Jin.  She'd raised him with so much hope for his future, but now it seemed that everything was falling apart around him.  His mother was taken from him, his remaining family fought to manipulate him for the gene inside him, and there was nobody she could turn to for help.

The screen flickered from the fight sequence and Jin's image appeared on it.  Jun opened her eyes and looked upon the image of her son.  He looked so angry, so unlike himself.  There was a darkness surrounding him and Jun looked at his aura, now thoroughly blackened with the influence of the creature inside him.  She almost threw up her arms in despair but stopped short when she noticed a faint haze of clear, red energy that was misting outside of the dark cloud.  Devil was blocking all of Jin's emotions and energies, replacing them with its own repugnant presence., but this one energy was coming from Jin, and it was strong enough to seep through Devil's defenses. 

The more she focused on the red, the more she recognized the pattern.  It was aggressive, passionate.  Of course Devil couldn't hold down energy that was so full of life!  Jin's emotions were black, except for a passion that rose to the surface of his emotions.  Jin _felt_ something for someone.  As weak as the feeling was now, it would not be held back.  All Jun had to do was figure out who else Jin socialized with, who inspired him.  
It would be a long shot, and she realized she should have taken this approach first.  Someone that Jin knew, had spoken with… someone who had broken through the barrier he'd kept up for so many years, and someone she'd never met before.

"Why don't you ask one of his other friends to help?" Xiaoyu asked, petting her dream-Panda's head as the creature wandered closer to her.  "What about that redhead who's always following him around?"

"He has other friends?"  Of course!  Xiaoyu knew Jin's friends.  She couldn't help directly, but she could point Jun towards the right person.

"Well, I don't know about friends.  He was always so quiet that not too many people tried to talk to him at school.  But there was always that one guy who was always hanging around Jinny at the tournaments.  I don't know if they were friends, though.  That guy was always itching to fight.  Jin never seemed interested, but I could tell he liked having the guy around.  I thought he was kinda cute, but not like I'd ever date him.  Guys who dye their hair red?  C'mon!"

"A redheaded fighter?" Jun looked at her doubtfully.  "Where would I even start to look for someone like that?" she bowed her head.  How the hell would she know if he was the one who could help.  But… if Jin didn't have any other friends… "I mean, if I knew what he looked like, that would be something…"

"Oh, I know!"  Xiaoyu said excitedly, bouncing in her captain's chair.  "This is my dream, right?"  She pushed a button.  "Viewscreen on!  Show me that guy from the tournament!"

Jun smiled at the incredibly vague instruction, but the screen flickered, displaying the girl's memory of the man who could help her.  It was a still image of a young man with orange-red hair.  He had a devil-may-care grin directed right at the camera, or rather at Xiaoyu, for her to remember it as such.  That grin pretty much said it all to Jun.  He was nothing like Michelle or Xiaoyu even.  She'd be lucky if she could influence this Korean to buy a stick of gum, let alone talk to him to ask for his help.  "Why do you think that guy could help me?" she asked the Chinese girl, who was busy playing with the ship's console.

"Well, I don't really know if he can.  But I always see him around Jin at the tournaments.  Nobody else really goes near Jin.  I guess being the grandson of Heihachi has its disadvantages, huh?  I hope he can help Jin!" she said as an afterthought.

Jun felt so tired.  She hadn't projected her spirit for such a long time before.  It was such a mentally and spiritually draining endeavour.  She hoped this worked, because otherwise she'd have to rest and that would give Devil the time he needed to completely corrupt-!  "No," she said under her breath.  "I'll make this one help me, no matter what."

Jun looked at the image of the man on the screen, concentrating on his features.  The image was of the past, and she grit her teeth as she attempted to locate him in the present.  On the screen his hair was long, down to his shoulder, but as the ship around her flickered and phased, she could see his image changing on the screen.  He shifted in stance and expression and she balled her fists to maintain the lock she had on him.  His hair shifted and then jumped up to a short buzz cut, his white dobuk flashed and was replaced with green army fatigues.  Jun steeled her resolve and approached the viewscreen.  The image began moving as it followed the young man in his present time, now as a video rather than a still picture.

"You'd better hurry," Xiaoyu said, rushing back to her seat and strapping herself in.  "This is the part where we get to the moon!"  The dream around them began to change again.  The window to the redhead was closing fast and Jun reached out to touch the screen, her hand passing through into his world.  She kicked off with her feet, rocketing through the opening just as the dream behind her collapsed and she found herself transported many kilometers away, landing in a military base in South Korea at the feet of Hwoarang.

+++

The Korean fighter was unaware of her presence.  Unlike Julia who'd been able to sense Jun's arrival, Hwoarang was blissfully unaware of anything except his Lieutenant who was grilling him from the outside of a prison cell.

The man was bellowing and quite red in the face, although Jun couldn't understand a word of Korean and had to guess what was happening.  Either way, it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was in trouble with the army.  The man continued yelling, and she picked up one or two words about the tournament that she recognized.  Though the man yelled, Hwoarang appeared to be doing a good job of blocking out the barrage of insults and lost in his own little world.

Jun sighed.  She'd have to wait to climb into his head as well.  She closed her eyes and meditated, waiting for the right moment when she could approach Hwoarang with her offer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun has decided on Hwoarang as a good host for Angel's powers, although the only thing keeping her from her goal is Hwoarang himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand that Jun doesn't speak Korean.  This could cause problems for her while she's following Hwoarang around while he's running in Korea and (supposedly) speaking Korean to his fellow Koreans.  Hwoarang speaks Japanese when interacting with Jin (except for the end of T4 where he speaks English to him O_o).  Aaaanyways, Jun can speak with Hwoarang when she interacts with him directly, however, when she's following him around in Korea and he's speaking Korean?  Yeah, she gets go play the guessing game as to what is going on.
> 
> Oddly enough I have experience doing this when I traveled to El Salvador without knowing a lick of useful Spanish. It's amazing how locked in your head you can get when you can't interact with others for 2 weeks except through an interpreter… but I'm digressing. My point is that it IS possible to get the gist of what is going on and pick up on people's personalities just by observing them without words. I had wanted to have more exposition through observed dialogue while Jun was following Hwoarang around, but since I had to nix the dialogue it's a bit sketchy. I hope I made up for it with Hwoarang's version of events.

It seemed that Hwoarang had gone AWOL to attend the tournament, and although he'd served the army well in the past, his superiors were fed up with his flagrant disregard for the rules.  It was amazing what you could learn from listening to the tone of people's voices and their body language when you couldn't understand what they were saying.  Hwoarang didn't stay in his cell for very long and was packed up and shipped off on a mission to a small town in South Korea.  Jun didn't bother following him the length of the way, but contented herself with hovering on the outskirts of the town while he did what he had to do, all the while questioning her sanity in entrusting the powers of Angel to this man.

It was well past dark when she saw his fiery aura emerging from the village and she followed him back to the military base for his debriefing before he was released to begin his duties for the day without sleep.  By the time he retired the next evening Jun was beginning to lose patience and immediately attempted to enter his mind as she'd done with Xiaoyu.  She discovered right away that it would be an uphill battle to even _locate_ him in his dream, let alone interact with him.

He was in no way as aware as Julia, but Jun found that his mind was in even more of an upheaval than Xiaoyu's had been.  His mind was so busy and active that his dreams rarely remained constant and she could only stabilize herself in one setting before she was tossed on her head and whirled about into a completely different setting.  Xiaoyu's mind was hectic, but certain elements remained constant so that Jun had been able to catch her footing.  With Hwoarang, however, she was completely at the mercy of his imagination, which was unfocused at best.

Almost upon arrival she was ejected from Hwoarang's sleeping body as a particularly violent event took place in his subconscious.  It was hopeless.  She couldn't contact him now, and was too exhausted to look anywhere else.  Although she was hesitant to accept it, Jun realized that Hwoarang was strong of spirit, if not a little dense.  Alright, very dense.  He wasn't as grounded as Julia had been, or even as in control as Xiaoyu, but he had something else that the other's didn't, and it was at that point that Jun shuddered to realize that he was the one.  Hwoarang had his own inner demons.  Where Julia would attempt to use empathy and conversation to get through to Jin, Hwoarang would let his fists do the talking, and in the end, while Devil could ignore words, he couldn't ignore a fight that was influenced with Angel's divinity.

Jun shook her head and picked herself up, looking back at Hwoarang's sleeping form with resolve.  She couldn't contact him _now_ , but she could wait.  She needed to rest anyways.  She'd need all her strength for when she was able to contact him.

+++

Jun waited, watching Hwoarang from her place in the spirit world that overlapped the realm of the living.  She meditated, slowly regaining the energy that she'd expended in saving Heihachi from Devil and then traveling to meet with Julia and Xiaoyu.  All the while Hwoarang went about his life in the military; undergoing intense training and the occasional mission out with his unit.  While Jun wasn't fond of the military, she could appreciate the dedication it took to stay a part of it.  Army life wasn't for the weak, and while Hwoarang openly detested being there, he completed all the exercises that were asked of him, no matter the conditions or how drained he was afterwards.  He was stubborn.  When others would have given up, he pushed himself beyond his limits.  It was as if he took everything as a challenge to prove he could do it.

Unfortunately, he also took rules forbidding certain behaviour as a challenge and he was often stuck with unpleasant duties as punishment for his aberrant behaviour.

Jun couldn't repress her laughter when Hwoarang re-dyed his hair and his Lieutenant nearly had a heart attack because of it.  The old Korean obviously ran a tight ship and liked his men looking uniform and presentable.  While some commanders could overlook a simple thing like a tattoo or hair dye, this one had been putting up with Hwoarang's rule breaking since he'd been picked up after the tournament.  It was obvious his patience was running dangerously thin when he caught Hwoarang applying the bottle of red dye to his roots.  He barked something at the redhead and Hwoarang came back with a sly comment that she was sure was funny.  It made the other man's face tighten up as if he'd swallowed a fly, so it had to be.  It was obvious he enjoyed the reactions he got from the older man, and Jun just had to laugh harder.

The Lieutenant didn't seem to share her opinion and glared harder at Hwoarang.  He said something else, looked at his watch and then left.  Jun had seen that routine before; it preceded his missions. 

+++

It was a somber room that met Hwoarang when he went for his briefing.  Jun waited outside, not interested in the details of what Hwoarang was being told to do.  She learned soon after she began following Hwoarang around that those briefings could get ugly if he was told to do something he didn't want to do.  He never had a choice either way; his skill in combat was just too great.  But despite there being no choice in the matter, it didn't stop him from telling his superiors to go fuck themselves.

Two hours later Hwoarang was led out of the room to a waiting helicopter.  Jun hated riding in them in her spirit-state, but she wouldn't leave Hwoarang either, so she climbed aboard.  As they lifted into the air she noticed that Hwoarang was in a foul mood.  Well, more foul than usual.  His clothes had changed as well.  While he and his teammates usually wore their military fatigues on their missions, this time they wore all black, with more belts and gadgets attached to them than usual.  His teammates had already pulled black balaclavas over their heads and were resting night-vision goggles on their foreheads.

Hwoarang glared at them before pulling on his own balaclava and Jun's soul tightened at the sight.  There was something different about Hwoarang at that moment.  Something was burning and dying in his eyes.  His flippant attitude had been replaced by a sort of cold acceptance.  Death had descended upon the three men in that compartment and none of them spoke as the helicopter carried them towards the horizon and their drop-off point.

+++

Jun followed Hwoarang as his team was dropped off in a forest clearing some distance away from anywhere.  The three men remained silent as they lowered their night goggles and proceeded to use hand signals to indicate where they should go and what positions they should take on the way there.

It was difficult for Jun to see exactly what was going on in the dusky twilight, so she stayed even closer to Hwoarang than she usually did, twining herself in the outer edges of his aura and letting him carry her along to his destination.  It was a good hour of brisk creeping before the men approached a thick stone wall barring their path.  They seemed to have expected it, however, and they each began to follow a predetermined course of action.  One approached the wall while Hwoarang and the other stayed back, guarded by large trees and keeping watch.  After a moment the man by the wall pulled a grappling gun from his vest and fired a hook towards the top ledge of the wall.  It passed over and hooked the other side.  He gave his teammates a sign and then Hwoarang approached the rope, quickly scaling the weathered stone until he reached the top and he looked about.  Jun passed through the wall to see where it was that they were going.  The moon was dark and the gardens beyond the wall were difficult to see except for the light of the stars.  Jun wondered what the hell the army could want with a place like this.  Hwoarang leapt to the ground behind her and she followed him as he hurried through the gardens, sure footed as he traversed the pathways as if he'd known them his whole life.  His teammates followed him for a distance until they approached another wall.  Jun looked up, realizing that it was a large house that they'd come to and not another retaining wall.  The mood between the three men seemed to intensify even though none of them said a word to the other.

Hwoarang was standing back against a hedge while another man performed some calculations on one of the devices he had on his arm.  In the distance Jun could hear the barking of dogs, and all three men went rigid, turning to each other before they gave a flurry of hand signals and they rushed further along the wall of the house.

The guard dogs were not far away, their kennel in all likelihood being around the corner from where Hwoarang and his team had exited the gardens.  Their barks rang loud as they rushed along after them.  Hwoarang's team ran to the back corner of the house and then stopped.  One pulled out a gun from its holster at his waist and he aimed, firing three times; each shot finding its mark with accuracy that only a military-trained crack shot could possess.  The three dogs fell down dead and Jun saw the brief glimmer as their souls fled their bodies and they began to grow cold.

She felt the anxiety within her growing the longer she stayed with Hwoarang on his mission.

Still, she'd come this far.  She had to stay the course, as sick as it made her to do it.

The three men made short work of disabling the remaining security features and entering the house.  Any guards they encountered they dispatched with efficiency, although Jun noticed that Hwoarang preferred to knock his opponents out cold than resort to using the firepower that his teammates seemed to favour.  At least Hwoarang saw no point in killing someone that wasn't a challenge.

The three men eventually split off, making silent hand-communications with each other before proceeding onward.  Jun stuck with Hwoarang.  He trailed down a hallway, pausing in front of a door before checking the electronic map that was sewn into the arm of his stealth suit.  He seemed to nod to himself before gripping the handle and opening the door as quietly as he could.  The room inside was dark except for a dim light that shone from an outlet in the wall, lighting the surroundings to show that a child lived there.

"Oh God…" Jun felt her feet grow sluggish as she stopped just past the doorway.  Hwoarang paused briefly before continuing onwards into the bedroom and quietly approaching the bed.  Her words caught in her throat, her spirit felt like it was growing tight, shriveling at the realization of what they were there to do.  "You can't!" she screamed, wishing that for just one fucking time Hwoarang would hear her.

He didn't stop until he reached the bed and looked down to its sleeping occupant.  She wished she could know what he was thinking.  Just to know that he was planning on dropping his gun and going AWOL again.  She could see the colours of his aura shifting together as if they were being stirred by a strong wind.  He was at war with himself.  She forced her legs to move and she came to stand by him, looking down at the girl who still slept, blissfully unaware of the man who stood above her.  She could have only been eight or nine years old.

Hwoarang pulled his night goggles off his eyes, propping them on his forehead and he stared hard at the sleeping child.  His brow furrowed, almost angrily as his hand jerkily moved to his side arm.  He wrenched the weapon free of its holster and he cocked the hammer back, aiming it downwards, but his hand shook as he tried to bring it up to the girl's head.  He didn't want to do it, but it seemed that he didn't have a choice.

His missions up to this point had involved apprehending enemies of the government.  Supporters of Northern Korea, or even other soldiers who had gone AWOL.  In each case Hwoarang had never drawn his weapon, instead relying on his Tae Kwon Do skills to knock his opponents out before any bloodshed could occur.

Unfortunately with this mission, the goal was bloodshed and his arm wavered erratically as he finally forced the pistol to the girl's head.

Her family had probably done something to piss off someone in the government, and Hwoarang knew that she didn't have to die.  He shook his head, tears coming to his eyes and his finger edged towards the trigger.

Jun shook her head, this was not happening.  It wasn't, couldn't be happening.  Hwoarang wasn't perfect, but how could he go through with an order like this?  What had they said?  What sort of hold did they have over him that could make him even agree to take on a mission that involved killing a little girl?  She felt herself sinking to the ground as Hwoarang hovered over the girl, visibly wrestling with his conscience.  He was beyond her reach, just like Jin was.  She was powerless to influence either of them, and she could only watch as he tightened his grip on the gun handle before cursing quietly and angrily re-holstering the weapon.  He wouldn't do it.  His aura showed his resolve and the relief that went with it.  He turned on his heel and walked back to the door just as a woman came running in from the hallway and collided with him.

She looked up at him, wild shock in her eyes and she began scrambling to her feet, screaming something at him and trying to hit him.  Hwoarang easily missed being hit, but she seemed to forget about him after her initial swing and rushed to the bed instead, pulling the girl up and yelling something to her.  The urgency in her voice didn't need translation; she was trying to escape.

She rushed past Hwoarang, bringing her daughter with her in a desperate attempt to get away.  Hwoarang didn't move to stop her, but the other two men who'd come with him were there and one of them kicked her backwards into the room.  She fell to the floor, blood leaking from her mouth onto the wood floorboards.

Then things got ugly. 

One of the men began yelling at Hwoarang and pulled the gun from its holster.  The redhead began yelling back, putting his fists up to show that he wasn't going to take what was said lying down.  Or maybe he would defend the woman?

The man with the gun didn't seem to care.  He ignored Hwoarang for a moment and wordlessly aimed the gun at the child and pulled the trigger.  Her small body collapsed to the floor; dead with one shot.  Her mother howled with a gut-wrenching agony that made Jun shudder to hear it.  The man looked at her with annoyance and turned the gun on her, pulling the trigger without a second's hesitation.  As she lay there dying he said something to her, almost gloating above her as she lay helpless in a pool of her own blood.  Her gasping noises were pathetic, and Jun nearly wept as she saw the woman's life light flicker around her body, her aura growing weaker until her soul was finally released and disappeared from view.

Jun felt cold, though she had no body.  She was numb, dimly aware of the arguing going on around her.  The man with the gun was arguing with Hwoarang, trying to take on a commanding tone, but Hwoarang wasn't having any of it.  He spoke to him with the same disrespect that he had for his superiors on the base.  His aura was burning a fierce red, clear and crisp and focused. 

His teammate holstered his weapon and stepped up to meet Hwoarang's fighting stance.  His mouth was covered by his balaclava, but his eyes showed the smile that lit up his face.

Hwoarang grinned, pulling off his own mask and goggles and dropped them to the floor.  He lunged at his teammate, driving his fists through the man's defenses to meet their mark beyond.  He punched and kicked with all his might, defending against the other man's attacks which were nearly as skilled as his own, though they carried more weight behind them.  Hwoarang skipped around a well-meaning kick and hoofed his opponent in the gut, dropping the other man to his knees.  As the man gasped for air Hwoarang pushed the offensive and leapt at him again, intending to finish the fight.  The man rolled to the side at the last minute and caught Hwoarang off guard, pulling him to the floor with him.

The two wrestled around on the ground for a while, trading punches to the face and elbows to the gut while their third teammate and Jun anxiously watched from the side.  They both knew this wasn't the place to do this.  Not in the home of a murdered man and his family, but only the silent man was able to do anything and he just stood by and watched as his teammate landed a few solid hits to Hwoarang's face knocking his head back against the floorboards and dazing him.

Hwoarang was down.  He rolled about to try and get up, but through his stunned state he couldn't climb to his feet fast enough.  The sadistic man pressed his advantage, raising his foot and kicking Hwoarang in the head with all his might, ending the fight.

Jun rushed to his side as he lay unconscious on the floor, even though she was powerless to help.  There was blood leaking out of his nose and she felt a terrible anxiety grip her as she realized that he was very seriously injured.  She felt a tinge of relief as his teammates carried his body back to the extraction point, neither saying a word to the other as they were transported back to the base.  At least they didn't leave him there to die.

+++

Hwoarang was put in the hospital.  Jun followed him through the operations that the doctors were all too anxious to perform on him.  From what Jun could gather he had some serious head trauma.  She couldn't understand what they were saying, but she didn't need to.  When they were done with him and wheeled him into a private room she could see from the bandages that he was hurt badly.  His aura was darkened around his ribs, and there were spots of muddied grey colour hovering around his head where that man had kicked him.  She released an imaginary breath as she stood over him.  Such actions as breathing and being sick with worry were beyond her now that she didn't have a body, but it was a phantom feeling that she felt nonetheless.  She drew closer to him, inspecting the IV that was fed into his arm, dripping nutrients and drugs into his system.  He was in very bad shape.  Just like Jin, only she couldn't be with her son now as she was for Hwoarang.  Devil would push her away and use Jin to spite and hurt her for trying to stop him.

Jun put her hand on Hwoarang's, hovering it where she thought his hand began to create the illusion that she was in fact touching him.  It was so frustrating being unable to interact.  She looked back up to his face.  Though his nose was broken, he still had a look of serenity on him.  Jun had never seen it before; not while he was awake, nor while he slept.  He was truly unconscious.  A spark of hope surged through her then.  It was her opportunity.  She'd started to think that she'd never get the chance to speak with Hwoarang, but now he would listen.  She hated to think that it was such violent and tragic circumstances that brought about her chance, but she'd use it to make things right; for Jin and Hwoarang.

She took another imagined breath and brought her hand up to delve into the deeper layers of his aura, mingling her spirit with his energies until she felt a familiar pull.  She allowed herself to be drawn inside, sucked into a strange world that was void of the familiar chaos and excitement of healthy dreams.  It was void of anything except blackness.  She closed her eyes and completely let go of the outside, thoroughly losing herself within Hwoarang's damaged nightmares.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang finds himself in a bad spot while on a mission, and Jun sees her opportunity to approach the Blood Talon.

The moment the mission was assigned to him he didn't like it.  His superiors had been tight-lipped about everything except the bare essentials.  Neither he nor his two teammates needed to know more than whom they had to neutralize.  A Dr. Geum, who'd been a loyal physician to some of the top officials in the government had become wise to some very sensitive information and was going to betray the trust put in him.  Hwoarang could only guess at the information the guy had learned since the Major in charge of issuing the mission didn't say anything more on the subject.  Hwoarang hated how the government liked to project a squeaky-clean image for comparison with the North, but still carried out its own hidden agendas behind the scenes.

"This man is a _terrorist_ , gentlemen," the Major stated before Hwoarang and two other soldiers who were going on assignment with him.  "He needs to be made an example of.  I want you to _neutralize_ him and the others in his house.  Take whatever action necessary!"

"Well, I know Chin likes to kill on a whim, but it's not my cup of tea, _Major_." Hwoarang said, pushing his chair back to stand up before he was stopped.

"I've heard about enough of your lip, soldier!  You'll _do_ this mission!"

"Make me," Hwoarang crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the older man.  He just loved getting a rise out of assholes like him who'd let their rank go to their head.

The Major straightened his posture and grabbed a hold of a letter, tossing it to the redhead before smiling knowingly.  That look alone pissed Hwoarang off and he grabbed the note, ripped it open and quickly scanned the text.  "This isn't possible!"  But the words were there clear as day; Baek was alive.  He recognized his master's handwriting that explained how he'd been in a coma but was now awake and teaching martial arts to others in the military.  As the Blood Talon read further he felt his stomach begin to sink as he found that they had a good hold over the older man to force him into compliance, and while he'd enjoyed teaching again at first, but constant disagreements with the men who issued his orders was beginning to outweigh any satisfaction he felt.  He'd managed to make an arrangement with the Major that if Hwoarang were to complete a mission of the Major's choosing that Hwoarang would be released from duty, as would he. 

Hwoarang weighed his options; it was his chance to finally get the military off his back and see his master again, although he had a rotten feeling about the orders and the vague way in which they'd been given.  He doubted Baek knew that the Major would ask him to carry out a mission of this nature, but still...  a flood of conflicting emotions rushed through him, though he was sure to keep a cool exterior so the others in the room couldn't see.  Even if he stuck out his term in the military, that wouldn't mean that Baek would be able to leave at the same time as he did.  The more he thought about it, the more appealing the rewards were.  After all, by the case the Major made the Doctor sounded dangerous.  If Hwoarang didn't do it, someone else would.  With an uncomfortable weight settling in the pit of his stomach as he reluctantly accepted the orders.

+++

The helicopter carried his team to the estate and the three of them worked in unison to take out the security system and move into position.  The details of Hwoarang's orders were fairly simple; there was one wing that he had to secure while neutralizing anybody within.  Neutralize was the army's way of saying kill.  Chin got the master bedroom with the Doctor who'd pissed off the wrong people.  Their other teammate, Soo had the opposite wing.  It didn't surprise him that Chin took the big kill.  That guy had always been vying for promotions; a real ass kisser and the exact type that Hwoarang hated.

"Neutralize, neutralize, bah!" Hwoarang muttered, coming upon a lone guard and taking him down without a second thought.  Who needed guns?  The wing was smaller than he'd expected and he checked every room, finding them all empty.  He opened the door to the last room on the level.  When he heard the soft breathing of someone sleeping inside his senses went on alert.  He could get away with knocking out the guards, but his orders were to kill those connected to the Doctor.  He pushed the door open more and paused, his breathing almost stopping.  The room was too small.  There was a soft light coming from an outlet in the wall and a deep sense of dread came upon him.  What sort of insurgent would sleep with a night-light?

His footsteps were quiet as he crossed the room, walking up to the head of the bed so he could look down into the face of the sleeping girl under the pink blankets.  Was it right?  Were the orders right and he had to kill her as well?  She couldn't have done anything to warrant death; she couldn't have been more than 8!  Maybe they just meant to kill people who were directly involved… but even as he tried to rationalize his orders he knew it was a lie.  This was a mission to prove a point, to spread the word to not fuck with the government or this might happen to you.  Most people who tried to do the right thing by standing up to a greater power had no fear of death, but the lives of their family made more than a few hesitate to take action.  He pulled his goggles up, resting them on his forehead so he could look at her in the soft glow night-light.  It didn't help.  She still looked sweet and innocent.  He felt his hand twitching as he brought it up to his side-arm and pulled it free of its holster.  He'd already come this far… the metal felt cold and heavy in his hands.  Just a gun, just bullets inside; on their own neither were dangerous.  Together they were only a fraction more-so.  It was only when they were put into the hands of a soldier that they were something to be feared, or rather the man that held them was.

Hwoarang bit his tongue, dragging the weapon up from his side and aiming it down at the bed.  He needed both hands to cock the hammer back and keep the gun trained on her body, but he wrestled with his own will to bring the barrel up towards her head and hold it there.  It was so hard.  So cold and the trigger was resisting his feeble attempts to pull it.  They may have told him to do it, but that didn't mean he had to! The hell, he wouldn't live with the guilt just so THEY could have their example!  "Fuck!" he cursed under his breath and angrily pushed the gun back into his holster.  It felt so good to do that, but there was still the weight of unfinished business weighing heavily on him.  He'd be punished… fuck it.  He didn't care.  He just didn't fucking care anymore.  He hated being a weapon for someone else.  He only had a few more months left of service and then he'd be free.  Baek was a grown man who could handle himself; he'd understand the situation once Hwoarang told him what had happened.  The little girl, on the other hand… he shook his head, unable to believe that he'd almost done it.

He turned on his heel and walked to the door, just as a woman came running in from the hallway and collided with him.  She fell to the ground, screaming, "Min!  MIN!  You bastards, what have you done to my baby?"  Hwoarang leapt out of the way as the woman climbed to her feet at took a swing at him.  For that moment he felt at peace with himself.  He'd done the right thing and she couldn't damn him for it.

Hwoarang looked back to the bed as the girl sat upright, startled from her sleep and she stared at him while her mother rushed to her side and pulled her up.  "Mother?  What's going on?"  She asked, looking again at Hwoarang who was frozen in place.  Her mother was still swearing while screeching that they had to get out of there.  She was frantic, crying; she'd probably seen her husband murdered.  Chin hadn't done his job right, which meant…

She ran past Hwoarang, trying to carry her daughter away from there but she stopped as Chin and Soo blocked her path.  A moment later she was knocked back as Chin kicked her in the chest and she sprawled on the ground, sputtering and spitting blood from her mouth in thick globs. 

"Hwoarang, you were supposed to neutralize the occupant!" Chin said, pulling his gun from its holster.

"The fuck, Chin?  They never said I had to kill a kid!  You may like licking the asshole of whoever can give you a promotion, but I like to sleep at night!"  Hwoarang balled his fists, ready for the confrontation with the other man.

Chin rolled his eyes before he aimed his gun at the girl.  "I'll deal with you later, 'Rang!" and pulled the trigger.  The girl collapsed to the floor, dead in one shot.  No preamble or even final words to her.  He's just pulled the trigger without a second thought or barely a glance. 

Her mother sobbed an unearthly sound and crawled over to her daughter's body.  It was almost primal the way she sounded and Hwoarang felt his soul shrivel just a little at hearing it and knowing he'd had something to do with causing her to cry like that.  Her sobs were abruptly cut short with another bang from Chin's gun and she fell silent.  "You can thank your husband for inviting us," he told her as she lay on the floor, staring up at him while her blood gushed out of the hole in her chest.  "Although I'm sure you already know that, right, traitor?"  Hwoarang repressed the bile that was stirring in his stomach.  He didn't know what was more disgusting; their deaths, or the ease with which Chin went about causing their deaths.

"We have a _mission_ , Hwoarang," Chin said, turning to Hwoarang after she'd died.  "You may like questioning the reason behind everything, but that only wastes time and gets you _killed_!  Soo and I took care of everyone else, and all you had to do was take care of this girl.  This ONE girl!  What the fuck is so hard with killing one person?"  He holstered his weapon again.  "You can bet I'll report this to command."

"Report all you want," Hwoarang said, stepping in and taking a swing at the other man.  "You'll be doing it through broken teeth, fucker!"

Chin dodged the punches before turning to Soo, "Looks like he's being difficult again."  His mouth was covered by the balaclava, but his eyes showed the smile that lit up his face.

Hwoarang grinned, pulling off his own mask and goggles and dropped them to the floor.  There was no need for stealth anymore; not when everyone was dead.  He rushed at Chin, throwing out a few punches before twisting his hip and bringing his foot up to connect with the other man's jaw.  He spun around, bringing the same foot around to gain momentum as he drove it into Chin's gut.  He leapt back and watched his teammate drop to his knees, gasping for air before leaping at him again.  Chin rolled to the side at the last minute and kicked his leg out, catching Hwoarang off guard and dropping him to the floor.

The two wrestled around on the ground for a while, trading punches to the face and elbows to the gut.  Chin fought with cold venom, but Hwoarang's anger drove him beyond his limits, punching and hitting even though he felt several of his fingers break.  When he couldn't take the pain anymore he head butted Chin as hard as he could.  Anything he could do to cause the other man as much pain as he felt at being a part of this murder.  Took another swing, cursing when Chin dodged his fist and he drove it into the floorboards, breaking another finger.  Chin took the opportunity to box his ears; bringing both his hands up with as much strength as he could to smack Hwoarang's ears.

Hwoarang was stunned, the pain in his head overwhelming his senses.  He couldn't stop Chin from driving his head into the floor a couple more times.  He hazily heard his teammate above him, although couldn't pull himself up off the floor.  "Now, time to go!" Chin said and Hwoarang felt the other man's boot connect with his head and then everything went black.

+++

He didn't know how long he'd been lying there.  It could have been for eternity.  It was as if he was a dreaming man waking after 100 years… or maybe he was a waking man just starting to dream… He whistled lazily, his eyes roaming across the sky that glowed a deep red colour, almost as if the current of a fast-paced river was being reflected in the ruby heavens.  Something was amiss.  He didn't remember coming here.  He stretched out languidly before sitting up.  There was something he had to do, but everything was so warm and comfortable; almost too warm, like there was a haze in the air that made everything sticky and dopey and difficult to think in.  He climbed to his feet, water dripping from his head and down his back as he rose from the puddle he'd been lying in.  It was red too, just like the sky.

Or was the sky reflecting the colour of the pond?  It was a thick soup of red, almost like blood.

Hwoarang stepped back, never taking his eyes from that strange water and he felt his heart skip a beat.  There was a body further in.  It was small, like a child.  He rushed forward and grabbed the girl, turning her over in the strange liquid that was far too thick to be water.

"Mommy!" she screamed the moment the air hit her face.  A high-pitched wail that made the redhead drop her to cover his ears.  "MOMM-!" she fell back beneath the surface and her cries were silenced as the water filled her mouth.  Hwoarang scrambled back to the edge of the lake, panic gripping him as he tried to get away and onto dry land.

It was her.  The same girl he'd watched sleeping before Chin had killed her.  That fucking bastard couldn't have just let her sleep.  He felt his stomach clench and turn at the weight of the memory and he violently emptied its contents onto the water's edge.  He'd taken lives before, but it was always something he could rationalize.  In a kill-or-be-killed situation there was no question.  Sometimes they deserved it, but that little girl had been the first that he'd… NO!  He hadn't killed her!  It wasn't him!  He beat his fist into the soft ground as if the gesture would somehow make it truer.

"What's wrong, Soldier?" a voice asked from above him.  Hwoarang stared at the standard issue boots that stood before him and felt his sickness turn to rage.  His eyes shot up to the man's face and he saw Chin staring down at him with that same self-satisfied grin that said he'd kill his mother in a heartbeat if it would get him something.  "Better her than you, 'Rang!" he said, stepping back as the Blood Talon leapt to his feet and took a swing at his face.  "There's no sin in following orders!  Where's your sense of ambition?"

"There's no challenge in killing sleeping kids, Chin.  I thought you were better than that!"

"Don't lie to me, 'Rang.  It doesn't suit you.  You never thought much of me at all."  His face took on a lopsided grin and his head rolled on a strange angle.  "Never thought much of anybody, did you?"  His limbs were starting to bend, drooping as if they were melting.  Hwoarang took a step backward as his teammate caught fire before him, slowly melting as his laughter bellowed from the all-encompassing flames. 

Hwoarang closed his eyes to shield them from the sudden heat that burned all around him.  It was unreal.

There was a loud roaring in his ears and he ducked down to shield his body from the fire.  It danced all around him, but never touched him.  It was hot, but didn't burn him the way it had done with Chin.  When the redhead hazarded to open his eyes again, he found that a strong wind had overtaken the fire and was blowing it away; creating a path walled by flames.  Hwoarang stood, anxiously looking down the passage that seemed to lead towards a group of buildings.  Without another moment's hesitation he sprang forward down the path that collapsed in on itself behind him.  He ran as fast as he could until he was clear of the roaring blaze and he found himself in the heart of a city that looked strangely familiar.

He continued walking until a large building came into view.  He knew where he was and ran as fast as he could to get through the arena doors and into the King of Iron Fist tournament.  The moment he set foot inside he felt himself overcome with same competitive drive that filled him whenever he heard the roar of the crowd.  The corridors that ran along the outer ring of the arena were long and curved off in every which direction like a labyrinth.  He followed along one way, but there were no openings that led to the inner ring.  Levels branched out in all other directions except for the way he wanted to go.  "Fuck!" he cursed, pushing through another doorway that led nowhere.  He could hear the roar of the crowd in the arena and it heightened his drive.  He didn't care about the other opponents.  He knew the only person to give him a challenge was Jin Kazama.  The memory of his tie with the other man was always at the back of his mind, spurring him to train longer and fight harder than he had before.  Ever since that day, he'd had an insatiable need to show that he was the superior of the two, and he'd become somewhat obsessed with the other fighter in the years that followed.

He ran a great distance inside the arena before becoming fed-up and rushed through the first door to the outside that he found.  It opened to the city that was now consumed in flames and destruction.  The sky was a stark void of blackness, with neither moon nor stars to give it a sense of presence.  The road before him was torn in two and the cars and vehicles were strewn about as if a giant had rampaged through and tossed everything about.  Startled, Hwoarang turned around, but the arena was destroyed as well.  "The fuck is going on?" he asked, turning and breaking into a run up the street.  He looked around for someone else.  Anyone.  Why was he the only person around?  It was so… isolating.  "Where the fuck is everyone?" he bellowed at last when he stopped for breath.  "Why the fuck is everything on fire?  Hello?!!  Who the fuck can hear me?"

He threw his arms up in frustration and turned around towards the arena just as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.  He spun around again to see the figure duck into an alley further ahead.  He bolted after it, diving into the alley to find out who else was trapped there.  He wanted answers, but he traveled the length of the alley to its dead-end without seeing another soul.  "The fuck is going on?" he asked, his frustration growing.

He scratched his head and turned to leave, but a being clad in light appeared out of nowhere and blocked his path.  He squinted his eyes, trying to see the figure but everything was so bright that he literally didn't see the kick to his chest coming until he was flying back against the wall.

"Oh, wonderful!" he ground out as he leapt to his feet.  He was in the mood to fight, but his opponent was so bright he couldn't keep his eyes open to see what was coming.  In essence, he was fighting blind.

He struggled to keep his eyes open, although they begged to close against the brilliance of his opponent.  He ducked as something flew by him and he shut them again, bringing his fist up to where the other person's ribs would be.  His hand connected and he heard a woman sputter for a moment before a blast of heat knocked him back.  "W-what was that?" he demanded, picking himself up from the ground and taking on a defensive stance.  If he didn't know better he'd have sworn it was a laser blast.

He kept his eyes closed and steadied his breathing.  He'd have to think a bit more for this fight, which was too bad because he hated strategizing.  He listened intently, waiting for her next attack.  He was tempted to open his eyes again, but it wouldn't work; he just had to listen and wait.

Something fluttered; there was a gust of wind and then-! Hwoarang brought his arm up and blocked a hit aimed right for his head.  He held on to his opponent and felt a foot in his grasp.  A kick from that high up?  He pulled hard on it, but she wrenched it free from his grasp and she returned to her position a few steps back.

Hwoarang braced himself for another attack.  He was prepared to hang on next time, even if she pulled him into the air.  He was taken off guard when she didn't attack and instead the light he could see through his closed eyelids dimmed.  He cautiously opened an eye, confused why she wasn't attacking anymore.

A petite woman stood before him, dressed all in white with dark brown hair.  She still appeared to glow, although it was easier to look upon her and Hwoarang relaxed his stance, taking a step towards her.

"Hello, Hwoarang," she said.

Hwoarang shook his head.  "Who the hell are you?" he asked.  He thought to ask her why she stopped attacking him, but didn't voice the question.  Sometimes it was better not to ask why someone wasn't trying to beat you up.

"My name is Jun," she replied, the clandestine light fading from around her and she finally appeared human.

Hwoarang rubbed the back of his neck and smiled.  "Alright, Jun.  What's going on?"

"I think it would make matters clearer if I were to explain that Jin Kazama is my son," she smiled sadly.

"Kazama?" he almost shouted, he suddenly felt very alive and conscious of everything around him.  "So what, I'm dreaming about Jin's MOM now?"

"You are dreaming," she said.  "But I am no dream.  This is only a means through which I can communicate with you.  I… am in need of your help, as is Jin."

"Oh…" Hwoarang trailed off.  "What do you want, then?" he asked, his usual grainy, devil-may-care tone in his voice.  "Y'know, he and I aren't exactly friends."

"I know," Jun said, finding it hard to keep the lilt of sadness from her voice.  "But you _know_ my son, and he knows you.  Have you… did you know that something has happened to him?" 

Hwoarang quirked a brow at her question.  "What?  Someone else didn't get him, did they?"  He tried to stay cool but he felt a surge of anger flush through him.  He was supposed to defeat Jin and the thought of someone else beating down that bastard made his blood boil.

"In a sense, yes…" Jun trailed off.  "After the last tournament Jin's father and grandfather succeeded in stirring an evil inside of him; a demon that he's inherited from his father.  Until now I've been able to help him fight it, but…"

"But what?  C'mon, lady.  I'm not gonna forget my beef with him and hold his hand.  You've definitely got the wrong guy."

Jun's smile dropped a fraction and she got a far-off look in her eyes.  "So you won't help me?"

"Lady, you have come to the WRONG guy.  If you want me to kick somebody's ass… it'll cost ya.  It sounds like you need a priest and an exorcism!"

"Actually," Jun smiled and stepped closer to Hwoarang.  "I do need you to fight somebody.  I'll even give you the strength to do it."

"I don't need anybody's strength but my own."

"You can fight Jin afterwards if you want, but I need you help him defeat the devil that's taken over his body first.  Fight the devil before you fight him if you want…" there were tears at the edges of her eyes and Hwoarang felt guilty for telling her 'no' so readily.  He'd never been comfortable with crying women; crying mothers being the worst of them.  A sudden rush of guilt for letting the girl die flooded through him.  It was the sound that her mother had made, he felt as if it was still resonating within him, triggered by the desperation in Jun's voice.

"Just remind him of the goodness inside him is all I ask," Jun said suddenly.  "I'll lend you my powers to do it.  I don't have the strength to do it myself so that's why I'm asking you.  Do you think I'd be asking you if I had other options?!" 

Hwoarang said nothing; his thoughts were churning uncomfortably in his mind as he contemplated her request.

"Please!" Jun said, suddenly rushing towards Hwoarang and taking his hands.  "Whatever your reason for fighting with my son, I ask - no, I'm begging you!  You are the only person that he has any sort of connection with.  You can defeat that evil inside him!  His grandfather, father… everyone he's trusted has betrayed him.  To him, you are different.  He trusts you… but I must give you my power first."

"Lady," Hwoarang cut her off, bowing his head.  He couldn't believe he was losing this argument in his own dream.  "I've got power."  His words brought a smile to her face and he felt his heart skip a beat as she pulled his hands closer to her. 

"Then let me give you a little more," she whispered as her form began to glow once more.  "You need more," she whispered, rising on her tiptoes to gently brush her lips against his and Hwoarang felt a surge of light rush into him and then everything was dark.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin awakes after the 4th tournament to discover he's destroyed a forest and resolves to find a way to defeat the evil inside himself.

Jin Kazama opened his eyes. He was caught in that moment just after waking when dreams lingered and the mind couldn’t focus on the basis of reality or where he was. The smell of burning wood filled his nostrils and he sat up with a start, discovering all-too late that his body was very badly injured. A pained gasp escaped his lips and he slowly inspected his body, feeling along his ribs to his stomach where an angry, purple bruise covered most of his side. There were similar marks along his limbs, coupled with a few cuts and burns. He grit his teeth against the pain as he forced himself to stand, feeling his muscles object to the change in position but he ignored it and looked around at the death that surrounded him.

It was all gone. The smoke burned his eyes, making them water and he knew that he was the one who had destroyed the stretch of forest that he now stood in. The remains of trees, still standing as charred wood corpses dotted the landscape, but there wasn’t a touch of green left in it. There was a voice in the back of his mind that had always been there, only now it was louder and it was laughing. “ _Do you see now what the power of a God can do?_ ”

“No,” Jin balled his fists, but it was a weak denial. He couldn’t ignore the destruction that he could see all around him.

“ _Don’t sound so weak, it’s disgusting. When you give in to your hatred you unleash your true power. MY true power._ ”

“No!” Jin bit out. “I won’t let you out! I’ve held you back until now, and I’ll keep doing it!”

“ _That was when you had mommy to help you, human. She’s gone and all you’ve got left is me. Nobody else cares…_ ”

The brunette shook his head against the barrage of laughter that filled his head. It wasn’t true. It was… “That’s not true!” he clutched the sides of his head, wishing that it would just be quiet.

“ _Oh, I think you’ll find that it is. Daddy only ever cared about me; getting me back so he could be whole. Grandpa only ever cared about **me**! And your foolish, foolish habit of keeping people at arm’s length from you…there is nobody alive that cares if you live or die, Kazama Jin. Nobody wants you without **me**! What’s the point in going on? Just give in to me, **join** me and bathe in the adulation that the world showers on those with ultimate power!_ ”

“N…” Jin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the overwhelming power trying to push his consciousness out of control again. He had to stay strong, just like mother… his mother had been with him giving him strength. She’d hate to see him taken over so easily. She and… he frowned; there had to be someone else that would want him to fight it… “No,” he opened his eyes and took a halting breath. “I won’t let you control me so easily. With or without Jun’s help, I’m going to find a way to stop you!”

The laughter in his head became more thunderous, “ _Try all you want, your pitiful attempts against me will only make your corruption that much sweeter in the end. Now that **he** has been awoken… I only have to wait…_ ”

Jin closed his eyes, remembering the techniques of the mind that his mother had taught him and focused on a pinprick of light he could see behind his eyes. It was surrounded by a swirling darkness as the devil continued talking, hinting at some future event, but as he focused on it and it grew, the voice in his head shrank in volume until it was nothing more than an irritating whisper. No matter how bright the light in his mind got, he couldn’t block out the voice like before. There was no silence like before he’d been put through that ceremony by his father. He steeled his resolve; he had to start looking for a way to separate himself from the gene before he succumbed to his father’s fate.

Feeling a pang of remorse for the destruction of such a large area of forest, he closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief; at least it wasn’t Yakushima that had been destroyed. Jin shuddered at the thought of the old-growth forest burning beneath Devil’s power. He didn’t think he could bear to even think of the possibility of his home being destroyed. Calming his thoughts once more he walked across the ruined forest floor, changing his focus and hoping that he could find a town beyond the gutted trees. It would be difficult, but he’d find out how to stop it and get his life back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang awakes in a hospital with mild amnesia and a Major looking to court martial him for something he can't remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Yon.  I don't know where she came from, but she just seems like the type of person I'd want on my side if I were in Hwoarang's situation.  (Although a kind face amid screaming authority figures would appeal to anyone ^_^)
> 
> I’ve had a bit of difficulty/fun with the military ranks and titles I use here. At the end of T4 using Hwoarang’s ending, the South Korean officer who addresses Hwoarang calls him Sergeant. I’ve done a bit of digging at [wikipedia](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Korean_military_ranks) and know that South Korea has its own ranks that can be compared to American ranks. To keep things simple (and since T4 used the American title of Sergeant) I’ve kept everything with American terms. Now, I know Hwoarang is a Sergeant, so I’ve had to take a little bit of a stab at figuring out what his superiors would be called. I consulted with a lost_catboy who knows his ranks and he helped sort out the roles of the ranks and the most plausible people who would deal with Sergeants and whatnot.

Hwoarang wasn't the type to sleep in, languidly waking up with no real desire to get out of bed.    He usually woke up and immediately got up, full of energy.  It was just the way his mind worked.  However, something was different when he opened his eyes to stare at the plain, white ceiling of a hospital.  He didn't have the drive to do anything.

' _What the hell am I doing here?_ ' he thought to himself.  Everything before opening his eyes was so fuzzy.  He remembered the woman in white… what was her name?  He thought on her for a moment that she'd wanted something from him.  Something important… he brought his hand up to poke at the bandages that were partially obscuring his vision but the action sent a stab of pain through his ribs and he wrapped the arm around his chest instead.  He knew that pain; broken ribs.  He hated having broken ribs; they always took so long to heal.

Gritting his teeth he reached up to his face, ignoring the pain in his chest and began to feel the extent of the bandages that were wrapped around his head.  Everything felt so fuzzy, but he soon discovered it was because of the amount of gauze that was wrapped around the entire top of his head.  His nose was bandaged up too, but he could deal with a broken nose.  "What happened?" his voice felt scratchy, parched.  He tried to swallow, but the action was difficult.

"Oh!" a woman's voice said from just beyond his vision.  "That's not possible!" she said, rushing out from behind a curtain to Hwoarang's side.  She looked down at him, an intense look in her eyes and he wondered what her problem was. 

"Water…" he said and she seemed to snap out of her shock.

"Doctor!  Get the doctor, he's awake!" she rushed away.  "And get some water!"

More nurses appeared as well as a couple of doctors who seemed very interested in the fact that he was conscious, although nobody would answer his questions.  Of course, it wasn't until he was handed a glass of water and was able to drink that his voice returned to him and he asked aloud what the hell the big deal was.  "What happened?" he demanded, turning to the doctor beside him who was gingerly poking at his head.  "What's the big deal, anyways?  It was just a fight, right?"

She started when he spoke to her, but a genuine smile warmed her features and she nodded.  "It was something like that."  She seemed more empathetic than the nurses who kept an air of professionalism, which was a relief to Hwoarang because at that moment the last thing he needed was some hard-ass telling him he wouldn't walk ever again.  He looked at her nametag so he'd remember who to ask for when he needed painkillers later; Yon.  He committed the name to memory and looked up to her for answers.  She placed a hand on his forehead.  "It was a fight, but it went too far.  You're lucky that you woke up at all."

Hwoarang didn't like the vague answer and tried to remember what had happened on his own.  Who'd he fought with?  There weren't that many that he didn't get along with in his barracks, let alone anybody who could make him work up a sweat in a fight.  He furrowed his brow; why couldn't he remember?  Yon looked as if she was about to say something but one of the doctors called her away and she winked at him and mouthed the word 'later' before drawing away from him to speak with her colleagues.

Hwoarang raised his head from the pillow and looked at the gathering of people in white coats congregated at the end of his bed.  It was the stupidest thing he'd ever seen.  Nobody needed so many nurses and doctors unless… unless they were really fucked up.  He felt his stomach tighten and it was only a kind look from Yon that made him think it might not be so bad.

+++

Hwoarang hated hospitals.  Whenever he found himself inside of one it usually meant he wouldn't be able to move for a bit, and that was the one thing he hated more than losing.  He felt so weak just lying around; it pissed him off.  The answers he was getting from the doctors pissed him off too.

"Just tell me what the fuck is wrong with me, Doc.  I can take it!"

"You'll live, and make a full recovery but it will be very painful for you should consider yourself lucky for that much," the stuffy, older woman said, pulling her glasses up so that she could look at the chart in her hands.  Yon had disappeared with some of the nurses to God-knew where and he was stuck with this old woman.  "Any other man in your position would probably be a vegetable by now, but you appear to have merely woken from a restful sleep and all the swelling in your brain has gone down.  In all my years I've never seen a man wake up from such a severe cerebral contusion in a little under two weeks and still retain all his motor skills.  Aside from the broken ribs and other damages it's almost as if-"

"What the fuck happened?  That's great that I'm some fucking miracle for you, but what happened?  Who ganged up on me?  I hate cowards like that, when I get outta here…"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Hwoarang," the doctor said, taking on a sympathetic look.  "I don't have the authorization to release that information-"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Hwoarang cut her off.  "Authorization to tell me who I've gotta give a little payback to?  I can't even remember how I got here!"

"I suspect that you may have a case of amnesia, which is completely understandable in your situation," she said, marking something down on the board.  "We'll test you for that and make a report to your commanding officer, it might help with the court martial."

"WHAT?" Hwoarang tried to sit up, but the pain made him quickly rethink his actions.  He lied back down and glared at the doctor.  "Wanna tell me how I got THAT?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you," Dr. Lee said again, the sterile look back on her face and she quickly changed the subject.  "We'll need to send you for a few tests to see just how much you've recovered.  Your ribs are still in pretty bad shape so I don't think I need to tell you not to move."

"Heh," Hwoarang grunted and the doctor left him.  He hated being cooped up, but it would help if they were going to be lax in their security because they didn't think he could move.  He listened to the doctor's retreating footsteps, waiting until the woman was out of earshot before steeling his resolve and trying to sit up. 

The pain surged across his chest and he gasped, but didn't give up.  The burning that coursed down his arms could be ignored and he pushed against the bed until he was sitting upright.  He breathed deeply, each inhalation causing the pain in his chest to intensify which only made him breathe even deeper.  "Oh God, this sucks…"

A strong hand fell to his shoulder and Hwoarang cried out in pain, rolling his shoulder to try and toss the hand from him and immediately regretted the action as pain lanced through his ribs and he doubled over.  "The fuck?!" 

"I heard you're feigning amnesia, soldier," a gravelly voice chuckled beside him and the man bent down to get into Hwoarang's line of vision.  "Don't think that I buy it for a _second_ , you damn bastard!" he pushed Hwoarang with enough force to make him bounce as he fell onto his back.  He let out an involuntary gasp of pain which made the man smile.

"What's your problem, uh," Hwoarang looked at the man's jacket, "Kang?"  He tried to push himself up again, but the man was leaning over him and restricting his movement.

His eyes narrowed, "Nice, very nice.  Trying to pretend you don't remember me.  I might have bought it too, if Chin hadn't told me about your insubordination.  Let me tell you, 'Rang!" he poked Hwoarang sharply, his finger finding each broken rib and made the redhead gasp.  "If it had been ME in his place, you wouldn't be here now!"

Hwoarang winced; this was fun.  "Listen, dickhead.  I'm glad you're pissed, but until I know what's going on I can't share in the fun.  Why don't you tell me what's going oh, eh?"

Kang's face went rigid and he darkened a few shades of red.  "Call me Major, _Sergeant_ ," he bit the title out through clenched teeth.  "Insulting a superior officer is a punishable offense.  I hope I didn't hear what I thought I just heard!"

Hwoarang grinned and relaxed back into the bed.  He didn't know who this guy was, but he was having fun!

The man opened his mouth to say something more, but closed it, a malicious look appearing in his eyes.  "You can pretend all you want, but I don't give a flying SHIT if you have amnesia or not!  You _will_ be punished!" he pulled back and straightened his coat, glaring at the redhead before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Hwoarang stared after him, more puzzled than ever.  "Who was that fucker?"  He didn't have a very good feeling about whatever would come.  He began to wish that he was faking it, just so he could have one-up on everyone else.  As it was, he couldn't move and nobody was telling him anything. 

He closed his eyes.  Everything ached and he just wanted to sleep, but he couldn't.  A nurse came in to check on him, wordlessly marking something on his chart and then replacing his IV drip with a new one.  He didn't really want a conversation, but her sterile way of taking care of him didn't make him feel warm and fuzzy either.  Annoyed, he turned his head and closed his eyes, wishing he could speak with Yon again and get some answers.

He started a while later when a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder and he looked up to see Yon standing above him.  "Damn, I'm losing my edge…" he mumbled.  If he'd been feeling better he would have heard her approach.  The sun was hanging low and casting warm, orange colours through the window and across the bed.

"Hwoarang… are you alright?" her tone was stern but caring, almost motherly, which was funny because she couldn't have been that much older than him.

"Lady, I gotta get outta here," he said, trying to push himself up from the mattress but she put a hand against his chest and gently held him down.

"You shouldn't be moving, Hwoarang," she said, straightening out the bed sheets and tucking him in before grabbing his chart from the end of the bed to have a look at the information there.  "Everyone is talking about it.  It's like a miracle that you're… well, look at you!" she seemed to glow with excitement.  Hwoarang looked at her strangely, something was so familiar about her then but he couldn't put a finger on it.  She smiled and put the chart back before drawing closer to him.

"Alright, first, I don't know what happened so I can't really appreciate this miracle you're telling me about.  Second, I heard I'm gonna be court-martialed for something I don't remember doing, which kinda sucks so I gotta get outta here.  Third, that fucker doesn't know how to treat a guy with broken ribs.  He was really pissed.  Sure, I had a blast, but if he's gonna get up in my grill all the time…"

Yon's smile dropped and she put a finger to her lips, walking towards the door to see if anybody else was nearby.   The nurse had been there earlier and Hwoarang figured that, judging by how often he'd seen her that day, she wouldn't be around until the same time the next day.  She was probably afraid of Kang, just like Yon seemed to be.

She returned and pulled a chair close to his bedside, sitting on the edge and leaning close to whisper.  "Everyone is being very quiet about it, but I heard from another patient here that you refused your orders on your last mission.  He was bragging about how he had to defend himself against you and… well, in my opinion he went too far.  His injuries were serious, but… kicking you in the head was _not_ necessary!"  She furrowed her brow in an annoyed expression, "I don't think Major Kang cares if you're still injured.  He was on the phone to Dr. Lee the moment he heard you were awake.  He's the one pushing for the court martial.  It's all turning into such a mess, when you should be left alone to recover… but," she continued, "forgetting the trial for a moment, I am glad that you're awake."

"Yeah, so am I…" Hwoarang trailed off, trying to remember, but that area of his memories was grey and he couldn't focus.

"You should rest," Yon said.  "You've made such an impressive recovery, it should only be a matter of time before you can remember everything, although I'm not sure if you'd want to…" she trailed off.  "I'm sorry, forget I said anything.  Please just rest.  I'll see that your dosage of painkillers is increased."

Hwoarang mumbled, "Sounds good."  He'd have to regain his strength before he could go AWOL again.  There was no way he'd stay for his court martial, especially if he couldn't remember what had happened.  It was as if there was a big, black cloud in his mind hovering over the whole event and blocking it from him.  He grunted and closed his eyes; it hurt to think.

He listened to Yon return the chair to it's original position and leave the room.  He waited for her to return but drifted to sleep before he could get his painkillers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang begins to discover the power he's been given and makes plans to escape the hospital with Yon's help.

Her voice was almost heavenly, yet stern and commanding. He couldn’t feel anything except empty blackness and her voice echoing within his head.

“ _Hwoarang, you must focus… listen to my voice, Hwoarang… Hwoarang? Focus on the light within and heal yourself._ ”

“…?” Hwoarang struggled to speak, but the effort was too great.

“ _Just do it!_ ”

“H-how!” he uttered, his own voice waking him from the dream. “How?” but the voice stayed silent. He shut his eyes; he had the distinct impression that whatever it was saying was important. ‘ _Focus? Focus on what?_ ’ He stretched his arms out from his body and winced, his ribs still hurt. Well, that was to be expected. He felt so stiff lying there, he needed to get up and move!

Hwoarang had been stuck in the same hospital room for the past week. Well, three weeks total, although two of them were spent in a coma; the past week he’d been conscious so he could go crazy with nothing to do. His nurse that came once a day (he’d counted) never said more to him than was necessary. She wasn’t interested in knowing him, and he didn’t care much for her, but after a while he was beginning to look forward to her visits, if only for the break in the monotony.

The visits that he’d begun to really look forward to were the infrequent times that Dr. Yon would stop by, usually whenever she could get a break from her regular shift. She’d talk to him about what she’d heard about his trial (since his representative hadn’t bothered to visit him yet) but she always had small things to tell him about, and it was those seemingly nonessential bits of information that helped him fight the boredom that ate away at him.

While the other attendants at the hospital didn’t seem to give two shits about him, Yon seemed to be genuinely interested in him. After the usual polite topics of conversation had been exhausted, she’d started talking to him of more personal matters; mostly telling him about herself, and asking him different questions. Just like two people getting to know each other under normal circumstances, and after a while Hwoarang had found himself becoming interested in her stories. In her. During the long, lonely days when he was kept entertained by either the ceiling above his head or the backs of his eyelids, she was more than a welcome distraction.

When he was alone, and he felt like the quiet of the hospital was closing in on him, he was acutely aware of another thing that was bothering him… that voice. He woke up with it ringing in his head, but he could never ask it what she meant. That last time he’d been able to catch a glimpse of her in his dream, or maybe he’d just imagined it. It was very similar to his dream with Jun. It probably had something do with her. He’d forgotten about his rival’s mother until just then and he remembered the promise he’d semi-made to her. Well, he couldn’t directly say ‘no’ to a crying woman so his silence had volunteered him for a ‘yes’.

The voice’s incessant commands to get better were grating on his nerves, though. He yawned and looked around his room. The windows were dark with only the pale light of the moon shining in. The lights were off and from where he sat he couldn’t see anybody outside his room in the hallway. He sighed and pushed himself up from the bed. His ribs complained but he ignored them, using his stomach muscles and his arms to lift his weight from the bed until he was sitting upright. Once he’d steadied himself he let out a shaky breath. He’d learned how to deal with pain from Baek, even though he’d had trouble focusing his mind on ignoring it. He breathed deeply, focusing on the pain that spread throughout his ribs as he did so. It almost burned it was so overwhelming. “Ah-!” he ground out, “Goddamnit focus!” he hissed under his breath. _Focus_. It was so frustrating to be at the mercy of his own body that he smacked his leg. “Fine, you want pain?” he pushed his legs over the edge of the bed and he flexed his muscles to pull him along. Every fibre of his being screamed at the agony but to spite his own body he pushed himself further. How much pain could his body give him if he just pushed? He shifted his weight off the bed until he was standing on his own two legs; swaying, but standing. He relaxed his muscles and felt the pain recede to a more acceptable level. When he just stood there the pain was nothing compared to what he’d felt before. Similar to a man who’d stubbed his toe and was complaining about it. If that man were to then break his arm, he’d forget about the stubbed toe in favour of the greater pain. Hwoarang just had to keep reminding himself that it could be a lot worse.

He drew in a breath and forced his right leg forward, pushing himself to move towards the window. He wobbled uncertainly and leaned back against the bed for support. _Focus…_ he closed his eyes, feeling the ache in his body. It ached from being immobile for so long; his legs were weak. He reached down to massage his thighs, trying to rub some feeling into them. After a few moments they began to feel better. His eyes stayed closed, but he swore he saw a soft light behind his lids. The light was spreading through him and he could feel it filling his core before spreading out along his arms and down into his legs. His hands felt warm… oddly so. He opened his eyes, but the moment he did the light was gone. He looked down at his hands; they felt warm but were only dimly illuminated in the darkened room. ‘ _Musta been hallucinating…_ ’ he thought, looking over at the IV drip that was still hooked to his arm. He ripped off the tape that held the needle in his vein and pulled it free. Blood beaded from the small hole in his arm, but it wasn’t something he could do anything about.

Taking another deep breath he tried to move away from the bed again. It was easier this time and he took a few steps until he reached the window. Much easier than before. From behind the glass Hwoarang could make out the scenery beyond the hospital. He faced the inner compound of the military hospital on his base. It was closed in meaning harder to escape from. He figured as much, since he’d heard of the court martial he figured they’d be keeping a closer eye on him and in the condition he was in it would be harder to break out.

He absently fingered the lock on the window while his mind wandered. What had happened to land him in the mess he was in? He remembered dying his hair. He’d been meaning to do it for a while, but it had taken longer than usual for his colour to come in. That was two weeks ago. After that there’d been a mission… it was one of the ones he hated. He liked taking on people one-on-one, not sneaking about and murdering them in their sleep. He knew some other guys around who were okay with that, even that bastard Chin thrived on it. Hwoarang started, it had something to do with that Chin. He remembered seeing his face in that briefing room, and then again... vague images filtered through his mind although he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps walking down the hall. He spun around to see who was at the door, but there was nobody there. They were still a ways off and he shuffled back to the bed, wincing as he climbed back in while paying special attention to his ribs. He set himself up like he was sleeping just as he heard the footsteps stop outside his door and then lightly tiptoe inside. They walked up to his bedside and he kept his eyes closed, keeping his breathing steady and shallow.

“Oh, Hwoarang!” Yon exclaimed. “You’ve pulled your IV out!” She snatched his arm to inspect where the needle had come out.

“Oh, that,” Hwoarang said, sitting up with a smile on his face. “It was bugging me.”

Yon gave him a stern look before a puzzled one crossed her face. “What the…” she reached over to turn on the lamp beside the bed and pulled Hwoarang’s arm under the light.

“Hey!” Hwoarang complained as he was pulled along with his arm. “What’s the problem?”

“That’s weird,” Yon said, turning his arm under the light. “Even if you took this out hours ago there would still be a wound from the needle… or blood at least! I don’t see any hole!”

“Guess I’m a fast healer,” Hwoarang grinned.

“But that’s incredible. First you recover from your attack and now this! You must have the healing factor of a…” she drew back, releasing his arm. “Well, it’s good that you’re healing so fast, but that means that your court martial will be able to happen faster…” she seemed anxious at the idea. “How are your ribs and your head?” she asked, suddenly hovering over him and poking at his injuries.

“Ow, that fucking hurts!” he hissed, covering his ribs but leaving his head exposed.

She poked at the coverings on his nose before peeling them back. “Incredible!”

“You must like saying that. What?”

“Your nose looks like it’s been healed! What about your head and your memories?”

“My head feels fine, and I can kinda remember, but it’s still fuzzy…”

“Maybe you don’t want to remember. I was able to coax some information out of Dr. Lee, since she’s dealing with the Second Lieutenant who is representing you for the case. I don’t think-”

“Wait!” Hwoarang cut her off. “I’ve got a Second Lieutenant when they’ve got a Major ready to bust my balls? Sounds fair!” he frowned. The politics was such a headache to understand, and he hated being caught in the middle of someone’s private agenda. He sat up suddenly, remembering something. "Is the guy’s name Chin?” Hwoarang asked. “The guy who fucked me up. It was Chin, right?”

Yon’s eyes went wide and she nodded mutely. “So you _do_ remember?”

“I was on a mission with him… It was high priority,” the memories came to him easier as he voiced them. He felt Yon’s hand on his arm again and her warmth spread through him. “An assassination, only it was more than that. I know Chin and I butted heads before, but I didn’t think he’d try and take me down while we were on assignment…”

Yon’s grip tightened on his arm as he continued talking. His thoughts spilled free-form from his mouth as he recalled the vague memories of how they’d come to kill the doctor and his supporters. “His supporters…” he trailed off. It could have been the glow of the moon through the window, or Yon’s presence but the events rushed into his conscious and set a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was worse than guilt that filled him. “Oh, God!” The details, the deal that Baek had made with the Major, everything was coming back to him in sharp detail. “That bastard…”

Yon leaned in close to him, rubbing his arm to try and comfort, but nothing could stop Hwoarang’s blood from boiling with rage. Not when he knew the truth of the matter. “Chin should be the one getting the damn court martial. How the hell am I the bad guy?”

“Hwoarang, listen to me,” Yon said. “He’s in question too, but you’re the one that’s going to get the worse of it. I know what happened and I… look, you’re healing faster than anybody expected. If you fake it you can put off the trial for another week, maybe two if I can work something out with Dr. Lee. So far she’s been able to keep Major Kang at bay…”

“Heh, I think he snuck through her guard. That guy visited me today. His bedside manner sucks! Wait, if Lee is my doctor, then what are you doing hanging around me?”

The question took her aback and she withdrew her hand while a pretty blush rose to her cheeks. “I, uh, I’m not really your doctor, Hwoarang. I just wanted to make sure you were being treated well, and… I’ll do what I can to keep him out. You heal up and then…” her voice trailed off and then looked around the room. She drew closer to Hwoarang until he was sure she would kiss him. “I’ll help you escape,” she breathed, afraid to let the sound of her promise carry beyond their bodies.

Hwoarang looked down at her, utterly confused why she would make a promise like that. It could have been a trap, but why would she? He was already in enough shit as it was and there wasn’t much worse that she could do to him. He nodded mutely. She pulled back and quickly set to re-insert the IV into his arm. “Remember,” she said and then mouthed the words ‘Fake it’ before turning and leaving the room.

+++

Hwoarang could fake the pain with minimal damage to his ego, especially if it would help him avoid getting shit for standing up to Chin. He lay in his hospital bed staring out the window and brooding over what had happened in that mansion with Chin and Soo. He felt his blood boiling at the memories, but each time that happened, his ribs started hurting and his head began to throb. The sky outside brightened and Hwoarang gave up on fantasizing his revenge on Chin; his head hurt too much. Instead he thought about Yon. She was nice, if not overly so. He still didn’t understand why she was going out of her way to help, but figured he’d ask her before he left for good. When he escaped this time, he’d have to find a place to lie low while the military hounds got tired of looking for him before giving up. He’d been caught too easily when he’d gone AWOL and run straight to the King of Iron Fist tournament. He needed to give himself some time between escape, and showing his face anywhere. Baek could handle himself. If he’d managed to work a deal with the Major, then he could work another one and get himself out of the mess he was in. It pained him to leave the man who’d been like a father to him, but at that moment, Hwoarang knew he wouldn’t see the light of day if he stayed.

Hwoarang tried to think of anybody he knew that owed him a favour or two that he’d be able to stay with once he got away. He’d helped Batty take care of some… no, Bats had already returned the favour. Kii, Big Ahn, Song… there were so many, but none of the favours he’d done for them matched up to what he had to ask. He needed someone that could actually hide him out, someone like… Doyon. Hwoarang hadn’t talked to his friend in years, but Doyon’s doorstep was the most appealing destination when he thought about it. The guy had enough money to help him and God knew the guy couldn’t turn him away. Doyon and Hwoarang had been tight when they were younger, and the two of them even fucked up the gang that had been trying to get in on their turf. They’d covered each other’s asses so many times back then, and even though Hwoarang didn’t have a family, Doyon’s had treated him like one of their own. He just hoped good ol’ Doy was still in the same place.

The sky was glowing brighter and Hwoarang could hear the sounds of the hospital waking up. There were more people moving out in the hallway, but thankfully none of them bothered to come see him. It was sometime close to noon when Hwoarang felt the pull of sleep around his eyes and he closed them again. With any luck nobody would bother him and he could just lie there until Yon came back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin finds a research facility owned by G Corporation that is rumoured to have his mother inside.  Despite the ominous feeling he has, and the rate at which Devil is gaining his strength, Jin proceeds inside the maze of rooms and levels.

Ever since Jin had woken up and found that he’d been the one to level a previously-healthy forest, he’d dedicated himself to finding a means to overcome the evil inside him that was growing more powerful. As he looked for answers, his will was strained to its limits as he fought to maintain control over the devil within him. No matter what he did, there was always a voice in the back of his mind; a harsh whisper demanding to be set free.

That voice stayed with him on his journey to find answers, from Japan across to the mainland and far in from there.  The whispered rumor that his mother could still be alive spurred him onward and brought him to a laboratory hidden deep in a desolate valley, with only a few mountains shielding it from view.  The gates of the building where nondescript as was the facility itself; no company logo stood out on the exterior, but when the squadron of JACKs appeared out of nowhere, Jin knew it had to belong to G Corporation.  The fighting machines rushed towards him and he took out the first few JACKs that attacked him, easily throwing them against the stone walls that bordered the lab doors.  However, the distraction was enough for the devil inside him to overpower him and he felt the terrible pain in his back as the wings ripped through his muscle and skin and then his vision went black.

+++

Jin finally regained his senses as Devil lost control of his body and retreated beneath the surface of his mind.  Quickly looking around he found that he was in a room with the bodies of many defeated JACKs around him.  Just like with the forest in Yakushima, he knew that he, no, Devil was responsible.  He bowed his head and leaned up against a crate to catch his breath; he was exhausted.  He could only assume that Devil brought him into the facility as he would have if he'd been in control.  Now all he had to do was regain some of his strength and finish the course, although it would be difficult if Devil took over whenever his body was strong, and leaving him again whenever it got too weak.  What he really needed… he blinked, his brown eyes focusing on a stack of cardboard boxes that were haphazardly stacked beside the crate he was leaning against.  There was a strange feeling he got from them, almost like he could perceive a red glow coming from inside.  He cautiously approached, toeing the topmost box onto the ground.  It burst open and a flash of red energy shot out, circling around in the air before zeroing in on Jin and shooting directly for his body.

He threw his arms up to block the attack, but the light was absorbed into his body instead, coursing through with powerful healing energy and instantly he began to feel better.  He closed his eyes while he felt his strength returning, feeling a light-hearted sense of joy settle over his soul; something he hadn't experienced since his… since his mother had been alive.  He could almost smell her in the air, although it was probably his imagination.  She couldn't be with him then if she was somewhere in the facility… could she? 

Strangely enough, devil remained silent for that moment.

Once the red energy had settled into his body, he felt energized enough to continue further into the labyrinth-like maze of rooms and passages.  Each room, it seemed, had its own host of androids and mechanized fighters just waiting for him.  As he beat yet another group into a pulp Jin began to wonder when it would all end, or did they know he was coming and hope that he'd be worn down before he got to the end, to his mother?  A wry grin lit up the corners of his mouth at the thought and he steeled his resolve as he prepared to enter yet another room.  Even if they did know he was coming (and it would be foolish to assume otherwise) he'd get through them all. 

He was reminded of the never-say-die determination of the Korean he'd met at the tournament; Hwoarang.  Of all the people he'd fought, that man couldn't accept his defeat.  Well, it hadn't really been a true defeat which was probably why he just wouldn't stop coming after him.  The only reason Jin bothered attending the tournaments was to destroy his cursed bloodline.  Killing his father was always the first thing in his mind, but ever since meeting Hwoarang… It seemed that the redhead wouldn't let their tie rest and he had to admit that he looked forward to seeing the fiery Korean with his taunts and promises of defeat as much as he wanted to see the Mishima bloodline destroyed.  At first the constant interruptions in his mission had grated on his nerves, but the more he'd meditated to clear his mind, the more he came to see the truth behind it; Hwoarang wanted _him_.  Just him.  He doubted the other man knew about his devil gene, and if Jin could help it, he'd never find out.  He wanted to fight Hwoarang as he was.  Not with Devil's influence or help, but with a calm, clear mind that was a true pitting of their skills against the other.  He promised himself that he'd fight Hwoarang again but first he had to navigate his way through the maze of rooms to get to the heart of the complex.

Jin stepped into another room, immediately noticing a large door at the centre of it.  It appeared bigger than the rest and he could sense something dark was on the other side of it.  Something… evil.  His devil began to pace, itching for the fight that was coming up, but Jin shrugged it off and approached the door.  It appeared to be electronically locked, too difficult to break down physically, and he didn't want to expend the energy for something that should have had a control somewhere… he focused his mind, remembering a room he'd bypassed but he'd had a strange feeling about.  It came to the forefront of his mind, almost pushed there by Devil, and he returned to the hallway, walking down to the room and stepped past the threshold.  His brown eyes quickly scanned for enemies but found none.  Still, the slightest noise could alert them; a breaking crate would draw them like flies, and he wanted to conserve his energy for his upcoming battle.  At the far corner of the room he saw a stack of boxes piled in a conspicuous fashion.  The voice in his mind commanded him to move forward, and against his better judgment he did.  At the moment his goals coincided with those of Devil, if only for the next hour or so.  The boxes fell to the side to reveal a control panel.  With one swift punch Jin destroyed it and there was the sound of hydraulics straining to move something heavy, and then there was silence.  He returned to the room with the door and found that it had been moved aside to reveal the room beyond.  Though he couldn't see who was waiting for him, he could sense their killing intent.  It was familiar to him, but still felt… almost fake.

" _What are you waiting for?  I wanna see some blood!_ "

"Be quiet," Jin muttered as he walked through the now-open doorway.  His muscles were taught, ready to react to any attacks that came his way.  Still, he only tensed more when he saw his opponent appear at the centre of the room.  Although oddly dressed in grey prison-style pants with heavy manacles around his wrists, the image of Heihachi Mishima was everything he remembered.  Had his grandfather been captured?  No, there was something off about his energy.  As if it was flawed in some spots, like a copy of the original.

The Heihachi clone said nothing except taking the attack stance that the real Mishima patriarch used in combat.  So he wasn't real, but seemed to know how to fight like the original.  Jin slowly took his own stance, waiting for the perfect break in time when instinct propelled him forward with the first attack.

Devil stayed silent as Jin moved, only adding his own strength to the fight as the brunette side-stepped one of Heihachi's kicks before the older man stomped his foot on the floor and knocked him off-guard and used the opportunity to hit him with a charged uppercut.

Jin fell backwards, hitting his head against the wall before his body was overtaken with another, stronger pain as he felt a pressure growing in his chest.  "No…" he moaned and grit his teeth against surge of power he could feel inside him.  It was like nothing he'd felt before; that demon was getting stronger.  He clung to his sanity as the black wings burst from his back, refusing to lose cognizance of the situation.  He took a back-seat to Devil as his body was possessed.  It was like watching a movie from behind the eyes of the star; but still capable of feeling the pain of each hit he took.

Heihachi's clone seemed unfazed by the transformation and came at Devil with everything he had.  The older man's fist connected with his head, although Devil's power deflected most of the blow and he was able to come back at him with a demon jab that sent him flying.  The longer the fight progressed, the stronger Devil's hold over his body became and Jin's perspective became too fuzzy to watch any longer.  As Heihachi was defeated, three more clones appeared and Devil howled with glee before diving into the fray and Jin closed his eyes; too overpowered to maintain consciousness any more.

+++

Just as before, Jin awoke with an aching body and surrounded by destruction and death.  The bodies of the Heihachi clones lay strewn about the room.  Jin didn't need to approach them to know they were dead, and he was filled with a sense of anxiety over what he would find at the end of his journey.  Would something similar have been done to his mother?

Ignoring the pain, Jin proceeded beyond the clone room into what looked like a small control room.  It appeared to have been abandoned in haste, since the systems were still active with the access codes in place.  Perhaps the scientists monitoring his fight had fled once Devil had manifested.  Either way, it was an opportunity for Jin to get a good look at what was going on in the facility.  He was glad that the systems were still logged in, since the computers that he'd used at school had only taught him so much about navigating within a system.  He didn't know the first thing about hacking, and breathed a sigh of relief as he was able to locate blueprints of the labs fairly quickly.

"This looks like…" he gasped before scrolling quickly through the data.  The lab had been constructed on the site of ancient ruins, which should have tipped off the brunette that something was amiss although he couldn't quite put his finger on it.  He memorized the map, taking note of a circular chamber that seemed to connect several of the levels together and decided to head in that direction.  A faster way down that would take him past the mobs of guards would be nice, and it would give him time to recover his strength so that Devil couldn't take over again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang is running out of time and at the insistence of the voice in his head, and with Dr. Yon's help, he sets about escaping.

" _Hwoarang!_ "

Hwoarang started awake.  The sun was now hanging low in the sky and there were dull oranges and reds spilling through the window.  Without looking he knew he was alone.  It was a peculiar feeling, but he could _sense_ it.  "Fucking weird," he mumbled and sat up.  It wasn't until he'd swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up that he realized his pain had diminished.  He felt stiff more than anything, but his ribs… he grabbed the IV and wheeled it around to the private bathroom to get a better look.  He pulled open the hospital shirt and looked at his bandaged torso.  There was a dark, purple and green bruise peeking out from the edges of the bandages, but when he poked at his ribs he only felt discomfort spread through him.  It was nothing like the agony he'd felt before.

There was something going on and Hwoarang wracked his brain to try and figure out what it was.  He used the toilet since he was there, and was washing up when he heard it again.

" _Hwoarang!_ "

It was that woman's voice.  It sounded like it was calling him from outside, and yet he knew nobody had spoken.

He peeked his head out of the bathroom.  "Hello?" he whispered, feeling paranoid but positive that he'd heard something.

" _Bed!_ " It commanded him and while he would have loved to argue it, he rushed back to his bed, putting the IV stand back where it had been and set himself up in bed like Yon had left him the day before.  The voice annoyed him, but he understood the meaning of its command.

He'd just closed his eyes to feign sleep when he heard heavy footsteps in the hallway and he could sense they were coming for him.  He remembered Yon's advice to fake it and he did his best to keep the expression of someone who was seriously injured and sleeping, rather than a man who was awake and ready to fight like hell to get out of there.

"Lieutenant, he's still recovering!"  A woman hissed.  She sounded older, like the Dr. Lee he'd met.  She sounded upset.

"I don't give a shit," a man said.  He sounded much older and hardened.  "I got a trial on hold because of some limp-wristed pantywaist is too sick to be there.  The Major is breathing down my neck and I have to talk to the Sergeant!"

Hwoarang could hear the man standing over him and he did his best impression of a corpse that he could manage.  The woman was arguing vehemently with him, and luckily it sounded like she was on Hwoarang's side.

"Lieutenant, I don't care what you have waiting on this man.  It's a miracle he's alive and I want to keep him that way.  I'm in charge of his release, and I'm the one who says- Stop that!"  Hwoarang felt a sharp pain in his chest as the man began poking him, supposedly to see if he was awake or just faking it.  He decided to play it up and let out a strangled moan, trying to sound as pained as possible without sounding awake.

"Lieutenant!" her voice rose in pitch and command and the man's hand was pulled away.  "I'm going to have to ask you to leave!  He's heavily sedated; he won't be able to answer your questions.  I'll give you updated progress reports on his recovery, but you can't come down here every day to check up on him!"  She was good.  He heard the man muttering something unflattering under his breath, but the Lieutenant left them alone and Hwoarang feigned sleep until he could sense Dr. Lee leave as well and he was alone again.

" _Hwoarang…_ "

He opened his eyes.  "What?"  The man's poking hadn't been as painful as he'd pretended, but he planned on faking it as long as was necessary until he got out of there.  "What do you want, voice?  Being all mysterious and shit?"

" _It's almost time for you to leave.  Yon will visit you later tonight, tell her you're ready._ "

"Lady?  I'm still hurt!  My head is still fucked, sure my ribs aren't broken but they only feel bruised now.  The last thing I need is to be running-!"  He was cut off as he felt himself overcome with a sudden sensation of warmth growing in his belly.  It spread through his core before exploding from inside him and spreading through every cell of his body.  It was more powerful than an orgasm although it lasted as long as one in that one moment he was riding the waves of bliss, the next he was lying in his hospital bed trying to figure out what had happened.  "What was that?"

" _You're healed, leave tonight._ " The voice said and then was silent.

"What?" Hwoarang shifted his position to test the statement and… he sat upright, leaning over to try and grab his toes before rolling haphazardly off the mattress.  He felt fine… no, wait.  He wiggled his toes; he felt great!  His strength was renewed and he felt as if he could take on the whole army single-handed.  "Nice trick!" he said, reaching behind him to scratch his back.  He felt great except for a strange sensation that was throbbing through his shoulder blades.  He grabbed the IV drip and went into the bathroom to look in the mirror, but once he'd pulled his hospital top off and tried to look over his shoulder at his reflection, he couldn't see anything.  It itched and he reached up to scratch it, pulling back when he felt a strange bump poking out from underneath his skin.  He reached back again, wondering if he'd imagined it, but he felt it again; right above each shoulder blade was two, large bumps.  He ran his fingers over them, feeling the heat glowing from them and pulled back.  He'd ask Yon about it when he saw her later.  He had other things to worry about; like getting the fuck out of there.

+++

His nurse came and left, same as usual with barely a word exchanged between the two.  Hwoarang feigned sleep for half of the time, and plotted his course once he'd gotten off the damned base.  He'd probably hitch a ride or two until he got to a city where he could take a train out to Doyon's place.  He hadn't spoken with his friend in years, but they'd been like brothers when they were kids.  He didn't doubt Doyon's hospitality when he got there.

The Blood Talon shifted uncomfortably; his back still had those lumps.  When he lay on them he discovered they were pliant, moving inside his body to accommodate the bed (although he didn't know if that was good or bad).  He watched the clock on the wall tick down the minutes of the day.  Noon came and left, and he felt himself doze off when he started awake.

She was on her way.

He could feel her… down the hallway just coming off the elevator.  Her footsteps were quiet, but he could still make out the distinct click-clack of her shoes on the cheap tile floor.  He climbed out of bed, absently running a hand through his hair and got tangled in the IV; he felt nervous, like he was waiting for a date or something. 

When she came through the doorway she rushed to his side.  "Hwoarang, what are you doing?" she whispered.  "Are you alright to stand?" she offered her arm to support him but he shook her off.

"Yon, I'm fine, but it's time for me to go."

She gave him an appraising look before nodding.  "Nobody would have thought you could heal up so fast, but I have been altering your chart a bit to hide it.  Are you sure you're okay to go?" she reached out to poke him in the ribs.

"I'm fine, Doc.  Geez, why does everyone keep doing that?"

"Would you like me to poke you in the head?" she asked and started poking him in his face.

"Hey, stop that!" he said, smacking her hand away and smiling.  "Stop having fun at my expense, eh?"

"I'm sorry," she said, the laughter fading from her eyes and she looked sad.  "So you really want to leave?  Tonight?  That's the strangest thing.  I had this feeling that you'd want to leave so I packed up some clothes for you… isn't that weird?"

Hwoarang shrugged his shoulders, although he felt the tug of that voice in his head and he knew that she had something to do with it… or maybe Jun did.  Either way, it was time to get the hell out of there.

"There's a guard around the corner where the elevator is.  That's the only way out of here so we're going to have to be sneaky."  Her eyes took on a mischievous light that Hwoarang couldn't resist grinning at.  She was having fun!

"I hope you have a plan," Hwoarang said warily, entertaining the idea of just climbing out the window.

"Yes," Yon said with a grin.  "I've got it all planned out."

Hwoarang raised an eyebrow as she left and quickly returned with an armful of bandages and some clothes.  "Alright, get dressed and I'll fix you up!"

"Hmm, I think I saw this in a movie once," Hwoarang said, looking at the jeans before looking back up at her.  "Uh, a little privacy?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed and turned around.  "You know, I _am_ a doctor.  I've seen it all before…"

"I don't care," Hwoarang frowned as he began to shrug out of the hospital clothes and into the denim and t-shirt that she'd given him.  He pulled the black hoodie over his head and looked at her.  "Hmmm," he said disapprovingly as she turned around again and he looked at the bandages she held in her hands.  "Is this your best idea?"

"Yes!" she rolled her eyes.  "Once you're done up wait for my cue.  I'll distract the guard while you rush down in the elevator.  Take it to the basement and wait for me there.  Nobody is down there unless they're looking for old records or office supplies.  There should be a supply closet close to where you exit so just wait in there for me.  I'm going to create a false emergency with one of my own patients in the other room on this level…"

Hwoarang didn't want to know any more and nodded curtly while she wrapped his head up, and then worked on his hands.  She did a good job of leaving enough room to see out of, while covering up his features and hair.  After he'd been made up to resemble a burn victim she hurried to the doorway.  "Try to avoid attracting attention.  There's another patient who has injuries similar to the way I've bandaged you… if you get into a tight spot, tell them your name is Mian.  Then?  Try to get away before they realize that the real Mian is still in his bed on the second floor, alright?"

"Geez, I feel so confident," Hwoarang muttered under his breath.  Yon didn't hear him and walked out of the room, beckoning him to follow before instructing him to wait in an empty room while she proceeded further ahead.

Moments later he heard the doctor cry out for help and a heavier set of heavier footsteps rushing down the hall towards her.  The guard.  "Here, I need you to hold this!" Yon yelled, and Hwoarang heard the man's voice stutter something before she yelled at him to do what she said or her patient would die.  Hwoarang tried to keep from laughing while he left his hiding place and snuck past the room that Yon and the guard were in.  He rounded the corner and saw the elevator at the end of the hall with an empty chair beside it.  "No guard," he mumbled and ran towards it.  The elevator took what felt like forever to get there, but once he was safely inside he let out a shaky breath and pushed the button for the basement.  Once the doors dinged open, he checked to make sure nobody else was on the floor before he proceeded to the supply closet as Yon had instructed.  He closed the door behind him and walked into the storage room, seeing the metal shelving units that lined the walls.  It was stuffy with the smell of musty paper; he didn't have to worry about anybody finding him there.  He busied himself with taking the bandages off his head and hands, trying to figure why Yon had been so meticulous with wrapping him up, but it did help to pass the time while he waited.  He didn't even need the damn disguise…

It was a good fifteen minutes later and Hwoarang was starting to pace back and forth among the shelves of supplies before he heard someone at the door.  He ducked out of sight, his paranoia going full tilt, but quickly popped up again when he heard Yon's voice.

"Hwoarang?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh good, that went better than I expected.  Let's hurry.  I think Dr. Lee will be coming to visit you in an hour or so, and when they find you're gone…"

Hwoarang nodded, "They'll probably bring the dogs out to track me down."

"Right," she nodded.  "You'll have to travel for a while before you can get to a town since the side of the fence I'm taking you out to faces a forest…"

"Alright, alright, let's get going, then.  I fucking hate it when I have dogs after me!" he walked over to the door and opened it, peeking out again to see if anybody was there.

"Better let me lead," Yon said, and she took him down a few dimly-lit passages before coming across a thick, metal door.  "This is it," the doctor said, and put her hand on the handle.  The metal squeaked loudly as she pushed the door open, although there were no alarms and they walked out the back door without incident.  Yon had been very thorough in her orchestration of his escape. 

"How long have you been planning this?" Hwoarang asked wedging a stone between the door and its frame so Yon could get back inside.

"The day your memory came back," she said matter-of-factly.  "I didn't think you'd be this well to travel, so a lot of the troubles I was going to have getting you painkillers and someone to take care of you are moot."

"Yon, I don't want you to go with me anymore," Hwoarang cut her off.  "You'll already get plenty of shit for helping me out like this."

She laughed softly and stepped closer to him.  He hesitated before putting his hands on her shoulders.  "You must be wondering why I'm doing this," she said suddenly, laughing though there were tears at the edges of her eyes.  "Heh, when I tell you it will be even more confusing.  I… was a student of Dr. Geum.  He was a friend of my family when I was growing up," she sighed, leaning against Hwoarang's strong frame and he awkwardly folded his arms around her.

"Then _why_ the hell are you helping me?  I killed…"

"That's just the thing; you didn't!  Did you really have a choice?  Dr. Geum knew what he was doing, although I don't think he'd have gone as far if he'd known that his family would pay for it as well.  At first I didn't know who you were when you woke up.  If I'd known I probably wouldn't have helped you at all… but after I heard from your teammate… that evil, evil man was bragging about it, about Min!  He was making it out to be some joke!" she let out a sob as she buried her face in his shoulder.  She stayed quiet for a moment, regaining her composure while he stroked her back.  "I knew someone would be sent for him, but I didn't know when.  Heh, it's just like he always said.  The cleaner a government looks on the outside, the more dirt they are trying to cover up.  The further the lengths they'll go to protect their secrets."

"Yon…" Hwoarang tightened his grip on her shoulders and pulled her away from him.  "I'm so sorry."  He really felt it. 

"I know," she nodded, sniffling.  "Well, are you sure you can make it out of here?  What about the fence?" she changed the subject and Hwoarang was grateful for the distraction from his own guilt.

"Yeah, I can climb it.  They think a little razor wire will stop me, but I learned a few tricks the last time I went AWOL."

She let out a shaky sigh and looked up at him.  "I know you'll probably be fine.  I was just… nevermind," she averted her eyes.

He put his furrowed his brow while tilting her head up to look at him.  "You think those assholes will get me again?  Not a chance!" he smiled and leaned in against her, lightly pressing his lips against hers.

She kissed him back in earnest, wrapping her arms around his neck and parting her lips.  It was heated and full of feeling, but all too soon Hwoarang broke the kiss and pulled away from her.  She was smiling, although it was a sad look.  She wasn't a blushing virgin full of hope; she knew they'd probably never see each other again. 

Hwoarang knew it too as he let go, his fingers traveling down her arms to her hands and he held them for a lingering moment before letting go and turning from her.  There weren't many people he'd met that would go out on a limb for him like she had.  He felt his heart swelling with warmth when he thought of her and with that happy feeling thrumming through his soul he quickly dashed away from her and towards the retainer wall.  It took a little longer than the first time he'd escaped, but the company that had installed the security features had been lax in a few aspects and if they'd cut corners on one section of the fence… it only took the Blood Talon a bit more time before he found a new flaw in wire and climbed over and away to freedom.

+++

Hwoarang stumbled for the fifth time.  He would have known where he was if he hadn't been running from the dogs.  It seemed like someone had noticed too soon that he was gone and sounded the alarm.  He'd have been making better time, but the woods were dark and he was having difficulty keeping his footing.  He could sense the dogs far behind him, but he knew that with time they'd catch up to him, and he _really_ didn't want that to happen.  That voice might have healed him with that light, but it would take a real miracle to piece him back together after he was torn up.  He cursed again as his foot hooked on a tree root and he tumbled face-first into the dirt.  "Ugh, things couldn't get any worse," he scrambled to his feet and felt around.  It seemed that there was an incline in front of him and he sprinted up and quickly caught himself before he fell down an even steeper hillside.  It was more like a cliff face that just dropped down some fifty metres before continuing on with more forest and roots and tripping.  Hwoarang sighed; he wished he was back in the hospital with Yon.  He closed his eyes, focusing on the spots on his back that were still bothering him, regretting not asking her about them.

He reached back to feel the bump and was surprised to feel it had gotten bigger.  "Why the hell didn't I ask her about these things?  This can't be good."

" _Why not?_ "

"You again!  Alright, so I got away.  Now what?"

" _You're going to have to start learning how to do this on your own, you know,_ " the voice chided before he felt a sudden pressure building in his chest cavity.  " _Focus!_ " the voice said and it was all Hwoarang could do to NOT focus on the sensation.  It wasn't necessarily painful, but it wasn't pleasant either.

The pressure built up until he thought he'd explode.  He dropped to his knees, reaching back to pull the hoodie off and claw through his shirt at bumps he knew were causing him the discomfort.  He at his back until it turned to pain, and still there was no relief.  Gasping in desperation he did what he was told and focused.  The pressure felt like energy swirling around inside him, traveling from all over his body to his chest and then towards his back.  He concentrated on the feeling of that energy and was startled when he could begin to see it as white light in his mind's eye.  It flowed through and out of him until it dissipated into little star bursts just beyond the threshold of his aura.  It was all so clear to him and he willed that energy to move as one towards his back, spilling out of him until he opened his eyes and was surrounded by the light.  It was just like back in the hospital, only now he had a better grasp of what was happening.  That voice wasn't in control this time.  He spread his arms out, letting the currents flow through his limbs.  It was almost energizing and refreshing and when he finally felt the light dissipate around him he was aware of a new sensation.

There was a weight on his back.  Nothing too heavy, but noticeable and… "Weird," Hwoarang said at the new feeling.  It was impossible to comprehend, but as he extended what felt like his arm and lifted it up, he could clearly see that his arm did not move, but… he could feel it!  It was as if his arm had moved but didn't.  He moved the phantom arm again and the weight on his back shifted and he hazarded a glance over his shoulder.

"Holy shit!" he screamed, turning around; the action futile as the grand, white wings that stood proud off his back moved with him.  "What the fuck just happened?" he yelled, turning again before stopping and catching his breath.  "Hello?  Voice?  I need your HE~LP!"

There was no reply, although he could almost swear he felt her laughter.

"Lady, I don't have time for this.  I got those guys on my ass-"

" _I'm aware of your predicament.  Those things aren't for show, you know!_ "

"What?!"

" _For the love of God, do I have to spell it out to you?  FLY!_ "  Her laughter rang through his head before falling silent again.

"Fly?" he asked, but received no answer.  "Damn, you're vague!  Help me out here!"  He took a deep breath.  "Fly… Okay, okay, fine.  Sure, just _watch_ me fly.  Right off this cliff…" he approached the edge and peered down.  The drop suddenly looked a lot farther and he felt his knees go weak.  He absently reached back to feel his new appendages and his hand sank into the soft feathers.  They felt strong as he extended them both out from his body until he felt the tendons stretching.  They extended well beyond his fingertips; more than enough to carry his weight.

He stepped up to the edge, feeling the wind in his feathers, moving them with a gentle, invisible caress.  "I've got to be insane," he said, looking down before closing his eyes again.  "Death by falling or death by dogs; why are they both so damn appealing?"  He could hear them getting closer and his adrenalin started pumping through his body.  Fight or flight… literally!

The ground stretched out before him, but that wasn't his destination.  His dark-brown eyes snapped open and stared out at the horizon and the glowing moon that filled it.  He muttered prayer that he'd heard Baek whisper on occasion and took a deep breath before launching himself over the cliffside.

The freefall was exhilarating, but over all too soon when Hwoarang felt his wings catch an updraft.  The muscles in his back flexed with new strength while the wings were pulled taught against the wind like a pair of sails carrying him upwards to soar over the tops of the trees.  He flexed the feathered limbs and brought them down to propel himself higher into the sky.  A few more flaps and he was higher than before and moving so quickly.  He flapped his wings again; instinct taking over and he tilted one a fraction until he could feel himself traveling in that direction.  It was like steering a bike once he got the hang of it.  The wind blew through his hair and he fought a shiver that rushed through his body.  It was getting cold and he wished he'd grabbed the hoodie from where he'd thrown it on the ground.  The shirt had stayed intact through his transformation, although it did little to keep him warm.  The dogs were far behind him, as was the military base and Yon.  Hwoarang felt his heart tightening at the memory; it didn't feel right to leave her, but this was the way things had to be.

A few hours later he was a spot in the distance, praying that his friend, Doyon, hadn't moved.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin is progressing further within the G-Corporation facility.

After fighting with the Heihachi clones, Jin found himself searching through long-abandoned ruins that were oddly-enough laid out in the same manner as the confusing, twisting labyrinth of rooms and corridors that the upper levels had been. He jumped onto a stone block to climb up to a platform above his head. There was a master door that needed to be unlocked, but the switches and triggers to open it were spread out in the sea of rooms and it was a long while before he finally managed to destroy the last control box. He triumphantly rushed down the steps of the spiral room to move the door at the bottom aside.

The ominous stone face that hung on the door panel did not lend him comfort as he stepped over the threshold. The image of Ogre had been burned into his mind, and it set his nerves on edge when he felt another aura of killing intent wash over him, coupled with a roar of thunder.

“ _Wonderful!_ ” Devil cackled in his mind and Jin leapt to the side, narrowly missing a massive kick that came down at him from the shadows.

Jin turned, facing his attacker before shouting and balling his fists up. Ogre stepped towards him, his aura strong, powerful and above all challenging.

Jin’s blood simmered in his veins, his resolve to keep Devil under control was losing to his desire to avenge his mother’s death. This was not a clone; this was the real Ogre that had attacked her years earlier.

There were no words exchanged as the two powerful fighters clashed in a blow of energy. Ogre’s limbs became deadly weapons under his mastery and Jin was only able to miss a few of the creature’s critical strikes before landing some of his own. Ogre leapt back, preparing another barrage of swift, blinding kicks, but Jin rushed after him to beat the inhuman creature to the punch. Throwing all his weight and force into his next attack he channeled all his remaining energy behind the blow that sent Ogre flying backwards against a wall before landing face-first on the ground.

“ _Finish him…_ ” Devil commanded and Jin couldn’t refuse. It was his chance to avenge his mother. Jun… did that mean that the rumor of her being alive was false? His blood still simmered with a lust for vengeance, though the realization that there would be no reunion with his mother dampened the bloodlust that Devil had brought to the surface.

He hesitated, watching mutely as Ogre climbed to his feet and ran through another opening and down another passage.

“ _Fool! What are you doing?!_ ” Devil barked, struggling to gain control, but Jin held a tight leash on his own self-control. He’d been baited to let that evil feed off his anger. Commanding that voice to shut up he followed Ogre, intent on destroying it outright without taking any joy in the act.

+++

More passages and tunnels met Jin as he struggled to keep up with the retreating Ogre. Before long he’d lost sight of the creature and was stopped by mobs of opponents that appeared before him instead. He knocked them all down, noticing that they seemed to be human and yet not. Perhaps they were controlled by Ogre or some power inside the ruins. He could sense the ancient energy all around him, living in the walls, in the strange stone-glasswork that he broke apart to continue forward. He held back while he fought the humans, controlled or not, he wouldn’t kill them if he could help it. Still, despite his attempts to hold back, many of them were left immobile and in serious pain when he was finished with them.

He entered yet another chamber, keeping his senses on alert for any attackers, but there seemed to be none. He kicked over a stone pillar, his intuition proving correct as glowing, red energy spilled from it and floated through the air before gently encircling him and entering his body through his skin. The warming heat was comforting after fighting for so long and Jin sat to rest on a toppled stone pillar, calming his mind and the voice that had gained strength inside it.

The healing light was too… out of place in that place. It didn’t seem that anybody else had noticed its presence, or maybe he was the only one who could use it. If that was the case… then someone was helping him. He closed his eyes, a chill running through his body. “Mother,” he whispered. “If that’s you… t-thank you. I will destroy Ogre to avenge you!” his heart tightened at the words and the realization he had the opportunity to destroy the monster that had taken his mother from him and robbing him of the life he’d known. He breathed out, deciding that he’d return to Yakushima after he’d destroyed Ogre. He could feel his soul yearning to be there again and the more he thought of it, the smaller Devil’s voice became in his mind. If he stayed there long enough he could regain his strength over the demon, and then… he’d kill everyone with the accursed Mishima bloodline in their veins… including himself.

But though that had been his goal for a long time, at that moment the thought tasted bitter in his mind. Very bitter. He didn’t want to die, but it was the only way to kill Devil and stop the curse. Stop the bloodline so nobody could take it from him and use it and… it was so complicated when he thought of Jun. How would his mother have reacted if he said he’d kill himself? Would she understand if he explained his reasons? Would she stop him? Help?

Would anybody else care?

He angrily jumped off the pillar and paced about the room. Xiaoyu? Hwoarang? He let out a bitter laugh, the noise sounding foreign to his ears and he kicked the pillar as he came back to it. Xiaoyu would cry, maybe organize some sort of memorial at school if she felt really active, but she’d live and move on. Hwoarang would be pissed. If the redhead found out he’d probably tell him it was a stupid idea, but the Korean didn’t know everything either. He didn’t know Jin’s reasons.

Jin didn’t _want_ him to know anything.

Hwoarang was… his. His _chosen_ opponent. The Blood Talon wasn’t like the people who tried to use and manipulate him for his gene. Not like Devil. Not like Heihachi or Kazuya. Hwoarang was Hwoarang and Jin would keep him separate from his family troubles at all costs.

It was the moments when Jin was in the arena and he heard that voice, gravelly and accented addressing him that he felt some semblance of relief from his troubles. All the other man wanted from him was a fight; a clean, pure fight without any tricks or distractions. It was something Jin could lose himself in and enjoy, instead of an uphill battle against a power that only wanted to destroy him.

Maybe he’d find Hwoarang before he killed himself. He would enjoy their fight as the one thing he freely chose in his life. It was the one thing he could have since everything else had been taken away.

Bitter resolve settled on him then, and though Devil’s voice was speaking loudly in his mind, it was as if he couldn’t even hear it. He turned on his heel from the smashed pillar and walked onwards with a determined stride to where he could sense Ogre was waiting. His plans were set; he knew what he was going to do and he even had something to look forward to before the end.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang meets up with his old friend Doyon and asks to stay with him while he waits for the army to stop looking for him.  As he begins to settle into his old life, he becomes comfortable and complacent about helping Jin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The area they live in was inspired by the movie District B13. Yes, it might be unimaginative of me, but I couldn’t find any sites online dealing with the rougher areas of S.Korea. Korea also has a bit of a problem with gambling (from what I was able to find) so it's no surprise that Doyon would see the opportunity to make some money in his neighbourhood. He's just so enterprising...

The man in blue was running for his life. His face was burning bright red as he huffed, turning around to see if the men were still behind him before ducking into an alleyway. His glazed eyes turned to the dirt-strewn passage between the two buildings, looking for a hiding place when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and he jumped.

“Rora,” a large man with black hair barked. He shoved the man in blue against the brick wall. “You wouldn’t be running away from us, would you?”

The man named Rora laughed nervously, eyeing the large man’s black suit and dark glasses. “W-who, me? C’mon, Hitch. I couldn’t see you that clearly. I thought you were this other guy, see? I, uh, he, hmmm… what can I do for you?”

Hitch said nothing and moved aside as another man stepped in behind him. The new man’s hair was dyed bright yellow and he carried a bit of weight around his face and belly. Heavy gold hoops hung from his ears and rattled as he threaded his fingers together and cracked them loudly while leisurely approaching the man in blue. “Ro~ra!” he exclaimed in a sing-song tone, clamping the man on the back before punching him in the gut.

“D-Doyon, man,” Rora huffed, doubling over. “I’ll get the rest of the money. I still got till tomorrow, ya?”

The blonde sneered, leaning down to grab the quivering, greasy man by his chin and tilt his face up to his. “I _know_ that, Rora. I just wanted to remind you to not screw me over again. I’ve been really generous with you.” He pulled his fingers away from the man’s face and snorted, spitting on the ground at his feet. “You’re a resourceful little fuck, Rora. Don’t disappoint me.” He nodded to Hitch before turning on his heel and walking out of the alley.

The sky was overcast and the bright-blonde frowned and struck a match, bringing the glowing stick up to his cigarette. He sucked in a lungful of smoke and looked at Hitch who had joined him. The two men said nothing and walked along to a waiting Cadillac at the side of the road. They climbed in the back, the driver taking the vehicle out onto the street the moment the door slammed shut.

“Fuck, it feels good to get my hands dirty!” Doyon said, balling his fist in front of him and pulling his smoke away with the other. “Sometimes I hate all the bullshit I have to deal with now. I just wanna get out there like the good old days, ya know?”

Hitch nodded silently and pulled out his own pack. “Yeah, power is such a drag,” he said dryly, crossing his legs while he sucked on his own cigarette and stared out the window. The buildings rushed by in a blur as the car swerved around a corner and Hitch wordlessly observed a wrecked car here or downed pole there. The area became more and more lawless the further they traveled until they arrived at Doyon’s building; The Devil’s Cage. It was an apartment complex built in the mid-eighties which had been high-tech at the time but now stood as a dilapidated example of what the area had become; obscure, obsolete, and overrun with degenerates.

Degenerates just like Doyon who’d carved a niche for himself and built his way up. It wasn’t anything to open up a casino in that city, especially in the seedier areas which was his home. Loan-sharking also helped to subsidize his expenses in keeping his casino well-furnished and in the end he was able to turn out a very tidy profit from it. Though it wasn’t the most original idea out there he’d made it work and he was proud of what he had. Nothing came easily to him and he’d had to step over the bodies of many powerful people to get to where he was. He didn’t regret any of it either. To survive you had to take, and he took all he could from everybody. He just wished that his family had lived long enough to benefit from his success.

The driver activated a remote controlled door mechanism and the Cadillac pulled into the underground parking. A few of Doyon’s guards waved them in, clearing the spike belt out of the way and radioing ahead that he was there. The car stopped further in before a large elevator and Hitch climbed out of the car and turned to wait for his large, silent companion. Doyon sprang from the back and ducked his head to light another smoke before joining Hitch in the elevator and riding up to the penthouse suite.

The doors chimed open and the two men stepped through. Hitch removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket before heading to the hidden stairwell that connected the suite to the lower casino levels. The blonde watched the older man as he disappeared into the stairwell and shrugged his shoulders before continuing in to the main living-area. The other man’s problems weren’t his concern.

The main living area was where Doyon relaxed with his friends, although it was big enough to also house a training studio where he could to practice on the bag and lift his weights. He’d been a skilled fighter in his youth, although that had been a long time ago and he’d taken up much less safe (although much more profitable) habits since then. Beside the training area (where Hitch trained more than he did) there was another section that he walked directly towards. A 62” widescreen TV sat on a simple display pedestal in the centre of the room. It was set up in front of the outer wall that was lined with full-length windows that showed a breathtaking view of the city. For those using the plush couches it would have been an awesome sight to see the world from that vantage point… that is, it would have been if the TV wasn’t in the way.

A foreign movie was blaring from the sound system and a pretty, young woman was lying on one couch watching the screen with rapt attention. Another man sat on another couch, although he was more interested in a hand-held videogame in his lap than the action on the massive screen. His dark eyes were glued to his game until he noticed that Doyon had arrived. He made to get up, but the blonde waved him away, indicating he didn’t need his services at the moment. Shrugging the brunette man sat back down, his long braid falling between him and the couch and he un-paused his game to continue playing. The woman didn’t notice that Doyon had arrived at all until he sank into the couch beside her. “Hey, baby,” he said by way of greeting before putting his arm around her and giving her a kiss.

She rolled over to face him and placed a lazy, wet kiss on his cheek before giggling. “Hey, back at ya. Why couldn’t Hitch have taken care of that guy, or Mickey? You know I worry about you, baby.”

“Bloom, I gotta go down and let them know I’m serious. Fuck, I get all lazy and shit and that’s when those punks think they can just rip me off!”

The woman flipped her blue-black hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Geez, baby, why do you have to be so mean? I just worry about you,” she leaned over to kiss him and he laughed, meeting her mouth with his and putting his thick arms around her waist to pull her down into his lap. Moments later his cell phone rang and he broke the kiss.

Bloom climbed off his lap and continued watching her movie while the blonde talked snapped his phone open and began to talk business. “Yeah? Who? Naw, I ain’t seen em’- huh?” he furrowed his brow. “Hwoarang? Is that you, man?” he pulled a tin out of his pocket and slid a cigarette out. With the cell tucked under his ear, he climbed from the couch and walked to one of the full-length windows that faced the dilapidated skyline. “Buddy, it’s been too long!” he lit the smoke and blew out a puff. “Hell yeah, I’ll send Hitch out to get you. Naw, I’m not into that anymore. Y-yeah, she’s still around. No, she doesn’t do that anymore. Yeah, I’m sure. Uh-huh, alright, where are ya?”

He snapped his fingers for something to write with and Bloom glared at him and snapped right back in a mocking gesture. He scowled and she waved facetiously before finally getting up to bring a notepad from the kitchen. The hefty blonde snatched the paper from her and scribbled down a number before shutting his phone. “Hitch!” he bellowed, rushing down to the other side of the suite to find his bodyguard. He couldn’t find the other man anywhere and he stomped back out to talk to the other man on the couch. “Mick, find Hitch and tell him to go to this place to pick up my buddy. He’s gotta bring him back here unless Hwoarang wants to go somewhere else first, alright? Hitch’s probably down visiting his sister… again.”

Mick nodded and grabbed the paper, loosely wrapping his floor-length braid around his neck to keep it out of the way before turning and heading towards the stairwell to the lower level. Doyon turned back to Bloom. Her amber eyes met his and he winked, “I think we’re gonna have to break out the welcome wagon for this one.”

+++

The elevator doors opened and Hwoarang stepped through into the penthouse suite and whistled. He was impressed; he’d heard that Doyon had done well for himself, but he hadn’t pictured his old friend as the type to let it go to his head. The man who’d picked him up, Hitch, walked on ahead of him. Their conversation on the way over had been minimal. Hitch seemed like the kind of guy who was both quiet and pissed-off all the time. He’d barely received a raised eyebrow when he’d climbed into the car and his wings had caught on the roof. Sitting in the back seat was difficult, but he managed to tuck his wings to the side and found out just how flexible they were.

Hwoarang followed his silent escort through the suite and into an impressive entertainment room. The redhead automatically noticed the training area that Hitch was headed for, but he was distracted by the cry of his friend who was rushing to greet him.

“Hwoarang! C’mere, ya bastard!” He wrapped his arms around his friend in a gruff embrace before pulling back in shock. “What the fuck is that, man?” he exclaimed, releasing his hold on one of the redhead’s wings. His shock turned to doubt which melted into a wry smile and then a shrug of his shoulders and he turned back to his couch. Hwoarang inwardly sighed in relief when he saw he wouldn’t have to explain much. Doyon always did have a knack for dealing quickly with the situations he was faced with; even the truly bizarre. He followed his friend to the couch and he folded his wings up so that he could sit comfortably opposite Doyon who was relaxing beside a pretty brunette girl.

Hwoarang turned to the man who sat beside him, expecting a reaction but getting none as the silent man hadn’t looked up from his videogame.

“Hwoarang!” Doyon exclaimed once he’d gotten comfortable. “It’s been too long. Want a smoke? Mickey, give him a smoke.”

The man didn’t even pause his game as he single-handedly reached into his pocket and flicked a cigarette from a beat-up red pack. Another flick of his wrist and he produced a lighter, flaming and ready to light Hwoarang’s smoke. The Blood Talon put the white cylinder between his teeth and lit, inhaling deeply. He didn’t smoke often, but he needed it then. “Thanks, pal. Lt. Hardass wouldn’t let one of these within 5 km of the fucking compound,” he pulled the fag away and exhaled through his nose. “Not that it stopped half the guys there, though.”

Doyon lit his own cigarette. “Shit, they had you in the army? I thought you got outta that!”

“Naw, I still have a few months left of service, but some stuff… happened.”

“I can see that,” Doyon said, eyes shifting to just beside Hwoarang’s head. “So, those wings part of their experiments or something? Do they work?”

“Yeah they work, but I didn’t get it from there. Uh,” he took a drag, wondering if he could tell his friend the details. He trusted Doyon wouldn’t freak out, but he also didn’t want to seem crazy either. ‘ _The mother of this guy who’s ass I’m gonna kick appeared to me in a dream and gave me some sort of power that she wanted me to use to save her son_.’ He rehearsed the conversation in his head before deciding against it. It sounded stupid, even to himself. If it hadn’t been for the physical evidence, he would have dismissed it as a dream and forgotten about the whole thing. “It’s a long story, Doyon. It has something to do with the King of Iron Fist tournament. I picked these up through there.”

“Yeah?” Doyon asked, leaning forward in his seat, clearly intrigued.

“It’s not a drug, Doy,” he said, glaring at his buddy as he could see the gears in the other’s mind churning. If it hadn’t been for the street, Doyon would have probably turned into an upscale businessman; the guy was always looking for ways to make a buck and recognized what people were willing to pay lots of money for. Hwoarang snorted, “I don’t know how the fuck I got them and I don’t really want them, but I… I just need a place to crash for a little bit. Is it cool if I stay here?”

“Guy, did you say you went AWOL? The army’ll be after ya. You could be too hot to handle…”

“Remember Ami Yuu? You owe me, man!” Hwoarang hated to pull out his ace in the hole, but he really needed help, and he couldn’t exactly walk down the street to someone else.

“Fuck, man! I’d hoped you’d forgotten about her!” Doyon thought hard, making it look every bit as painful as it probably was. “FINE! You can hide out here for a bit, but if my crew sees any of your military motherfuckers sniffing around, ya gotta go. I have too many investments to risk, even for you.”

“But if you were gonna risk them; you’d do it for me, right?” Hwoarang showed his smug grin and poked at a metallic tin that had been left on the table. “What’s this, a present for me?”

Doyon nodded. “Only for you, man. Bloom, bring out Blue Lightning.” The woman who’d been quiet until that point let out an excited squeal and leapt out of her seat. She rushed down the hallway and quickly returned with what looked like a huge, blue vase, although Hwoarang knew that it was anything but. She set it on the table and uncoiled several tubes that were neatly wrapped around the stem.

Hwoarang peered around the hookah to his friend. “I thought it you didn’t like hash anymore, Doy. What’s up?”

“Every once in a while, man. It’s not good for business to get all doped up, but you’re here and it’s a fucking celebration. Just don’t tell mom, kay?” he grabbed the tin and withdrew a small black block and quickly set a lighter to it to loosen it up. He crumbled the bits into the bowl and quickly heated it up and passed it to Hwoarang. “First hit?”

+++

Hwoarang wasn’t much of a smoker, and the hash was a creeper and after a while he was feeling too relaxed to bother even trying to move. The drug was gone quickly and Doyon had brought him some beer that he let sit on the table, only taking the occasional sip from. There was a happy buzz thrumming through his body that he hadn’t experienced since he was a kid and he was just letting his body relax for the first time in weeks. His eyes lit up when he looked down at his hand he could see a golden light surrounding it. “Woah,” he said, flexing his fingers as the light moved around his digits. He felt the heat in his hand and wondered if it had any connection to the power he’d been given. He felt so comfortable, except for his wings that were folded at an odd angle. It wasn’t painful, but it was a dull irritant that was all Hwoarang could feel. He huffed and tried to concentrate on the energy he could feel in his body that was connected to the golden glow around him. He worked it towards and through his wings until he visualized them vanishing in a burst of light. His feathered appendages seemed to feel warm, and then there was an absence of discomfort. He reached a hand over his shoulder and discovered that they had disappeared just like that, just like he’d visualized. “Hmm, that’s interesting…” he mumbled before quickly looking up to Doyon to see if the other man had noticed. He relaxed as he saw the businessman was too busy making out with Bloom to notice anything. He looked over at Mick who was still playing his videogames, oblivious to everything around him. Hwoarang relaxed and watched the end of the samurai movie that Bloom had started, his mind occasionally wandering to the reality of his situation and what he’d have to do about it. He’d already figured out the wing bit, and he wanted to play around with it some more, but he knew that wings alone wouldn’t help him with Jun’s request and he’d have to learn more about his powers. His instinct was telling him to rush off to find Jin and kick the crap out of Devil, and he would have done it too if it weren’t for the small issue with the army. They’d tracked him out to Japan last time, even though it was out of their jurisdiction. They’d find him again if he got too sloppy, and he wanted some uninterrupted time alone with Jin.

‘ _Just the two of us…_ ’ he thought contentedly. First he’d defeat that Devil bastard and then he’d get his rematch. He snorted; it probably wasn’t even about the rematch anymore, but he clung to the challenge as an excuse to continue chasing the other man. He’d begun to view Jin as not just another fight, but as someone he’d like to… spend time with. He felt a rapport with the other fighter and it was so strong in his mind that he couldn’t ignore it. He didn’t know if Jin felt the same – probably not if he had Devil to worry about – but he intended to find out.

Hwoarang settled into the couch. Though he felt strongly about finding Jin and dealing with Devil, he had to lay low for a while. Being with his old friend and in a somewhat-familiar setting was bringing him back to his old ways. He’d stay for a few days… yeah, since he couldn’t leave he might as well enjoy himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin finally reaches the end of his journeys in the G Corp facility and must now face his greatest enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yakushima is just so cool. It’s not just a forest, and I didn’t realize it was so much more until I did a search for it. An [amazing site](http://www.csse.monash.edu.au/~aland/JAPAN/yakushima1.html) that I visited which just gives such a vivid image of what the woods are really like. Beautiful pictures and descriptions. The last day is sort of cut off and I can’t find a continuation of it, but the report, while incomplete, is just such a fun and informative read!

Jin was nearing the end of the maze. He could feel it with every opponent he dropped to the ground. Every punch he threw got him closer to Ogre and his revenge. He’d destroyed a strange glowing orb that seemed too powerful to be a simple machine of war, and after that the maze had become more complex. The rooms led in odd directions with strange puzzles that needed to be solved before Jin could navigate through them. It was only with Devil’s guidance that he was able to find his way into the final room where Ogre was waiting for him.

He stepped beyond the final threshold, the heavy door slamming shut behind him and he was immediately aware of the foul aura of True Ogre. He cast about the room, seeing nothing but a large chamber with tall, glass pillars that glowed with a soft, blue light and strange carvings along the walls that led up to a vaulted ceiling. It was as he looked up that he caught a glint flashing in the dark and then the hulking form of Ogre descended upon him and everything moved in slow motion from there.

The beast leapt from its perch on high and landed with a resounding thud at Jin’s feet, quickly lashing out with a powerful kick towards his shins. Jin blocked and dodged another swing of its powerful arm before planting a charged hook into the creature’s ribs. Ogre cried out, immediately retaliating by taking a deep breath and blowing a long blast of fire. Jin rolled to the side, just missing being hit, although he could smell burning hair and felt that the ends if his bangs were singed. Too close!

Devil grew impatient and began to pace within Jin’s head. “ _You’re fucking everything up! Let me out and I’ll crush him!_ ” Devil bellowed when Jin turned, raising his defenses in time as Ogre charged him and knocked him up against the wall.

“No, shut up!” Jin ground out as he dodged another flame attack. He could feel the power welling up inside him, but he pushed it back. He was strong enough to do this!

Ogre leapt into the air, held aloft by its powerful wings and Jin dove out of the way of a diving attack, turning at the last moment to kick the creature in the side and send it careening into the wall. The beast picked itself up from the floor and let out a terrible roar that resonated throughout the air. Jin stood his ground, feeling the air around him calm as he stared at the beast with a dead-bloodlust that was only tempered by a resolute determination to destroy it.

The two beings paused for a moment before each propelled themselves forward, launching themselves against the other in the first of many deadly attacks. Explosions of light shot out everywhere as the two collided, each hit finding their mark with deadly accuracy and they began to move with blinding speed to injure the other. Punches and kicks rang out in the chamber, some finding their mark, although most were blocked as if they’d been planned in a stunning, choreographed dance. The bodies moved together, the man known as Fatal Lightning never losing the mask of concentration on his face as he dodged a kick and took a powerful blow to his chest. Ogre howled, although Jin seemed unfazed and quickly took advantage of the pause and laid out several punches of his own, following through with a kick to the creature’s solar-plexus. Ogre stumbled backwards, gasping for air as he clutched his injured chest and Jin made to finish the job, but was knocked back by a sudden blinding light.

He staggered backward, covering his eyes from the light that was so intense that it stabbed through his eyelids and into his very being. There was an awful tearing sound and Ogre howled in pain, but the sound quickly turned into horrid laughter that ripped through Jin’s courage and filled him with mounting anxiety. When the light finally faded Jin uncovered his eyes and looked upon Ogre’s new form.

If the beast had been intimidating before, it was terrifying now. Its towering form nearly reached the ceiling, its wings flaring out to the sides and it seemed a nearly impossible opponent. Blue fur stood out brightly in the dim chamber and its eyes glowed with the fire that burned deep in its throat.

Ogre seemed to pause, leisurely contemplating its next move before its aura flared up and it sprang into the air, filling the gap between it and Jin with a flood of fire and heat.

Jin avoided the attack, noticing the greater range the creature now got with that attack. Of course, towering over him at twice its regular height had to help in that respect. Though its size was impressive, it didn’t seem to slow down too greatly and at that moment its title of ‘God of Fighting’ became painfully obvious as it dove through the air and made another pass before landing on the other side of the chamber.

Jin took the opportunity to rush towards it, throwing his charged attack into the creature’s side. Ogre lifted its arm in a gesture of power and the room suddenly filled with a strong wind. Not just wind but… it was churning together, faster and stronger, pulling Jin this way and that and it was all he could do to keep from being lifted off his feet and thrown against the solid glass walls.

“ _Jin…_ ”

“Shut up,” Fatal Lightning muttered as he picked himself up off the floor from the wind attack, licking at the bit of blood trickling from the side of his mouth.

“ _If he kills you…_ ” Devil took on a warning tone.

“Shut up!” Jin shouted, rushing at Ogre again. He ducked out of the way of a powerful kick, maneuvering around to its back and pummeling it with a series of kicks and punches, finishing it off with a corpse thrust.

Ogre staggered forward, turning to face Jin, but the brunette was on the move again, sliding to its flank and ducking out of the way of another series of godly attacks. It lowered its head, stabbing its horns down, but Jin brought his arms up at the last minute to block, his feet shifting under the power behind the blow.

“ _What are you doing? Finish him! **DESTROY HIM!**_ ”

“Ugh, stop,” Jin bit out pushing back on Ogre’s horns before turning out of the way and letting the hulking form fall forward while he stepped around its side and ducked under a wing. His heel kicked out and found its mark on the back of Ogre’s calf, sending the creature to kneel which made it easier for him to jump up and kick his wing-joint out of place.

The creature howled, barely heard above Devil’s incessant taunts. “ _If you’re not going to destroy him completely, then what are you doing? Let me out and I’ll rip him apart!_ ”

Jin ignored him, although it became difficult to concentrate. Ogre whirled around with a powerful downward punch. It connected with his shoulder and the man known as Fatal Lightning cried out in pain as his shoulder dislocated.

“ _You’re **letting** him **kill** you! Such incompetence…Jun put up a better fight than **this!**_ ” Devil was livid, thrashing about inside of Jin, although the brunette didn’t feel it as he sprang backwards to get out of the way of another attack, the words resonating within his head. The mention of his mother’s name seemed to ring clear amongst the fury that swirled around at Devil’s words. Clear and luminous it was a beacon that drove Jin’s goal to the forefront of his mind.

“Mother…”

He let out a steady breath, his eyes gaining the same dead-set glare that would have thrown any other opponent into discomfort. Ogre didn’t even notice as it raised his arm again to call forth the swirling cyclone drill from before. Jin rushed forward, using his good arm to push forward as he stomped his foot into the ground to lend power to his attack. Ogre staggered as its body absorbed the strike and Jin continued pummeling the creature with the same stomp that broke through the tough exterior and shattered the bones beneath. By the time Jin stepped back from his handiwork, Ogre was howling in agony, its tail swinging about wildly in a mad attempt to knock him over. Jin easily stepped back as the beast let out one final, deafening roar and then was enveloped in a blinding flash of light.

When the light dissipated, Ogre had gone and Jin could feel the floor beneath his feet rumbling. The faint sounds of heavy blocks falling apart could be heard throughout the chamber and Jin didn’t need to listen to Devil’s commands to know that he’d better find a way out. Fast!

Jin didn’t have the same troubles getting out of the levels as he’d had getting in. He managed to get to the spiral room just as the room that had Ogre’s mark on the door collapsed behind him. Devil roared commands and he followed, the ruins collapsing just as he made it out to the research facility. There was a faint alarm sounding throughout the rooms, but he saw nobody as he rushed through, his body screaming at him to slow down. His shoulder still ached from where Ogre had dislocated it, but he couldn’t stop to try and do anything about it. Running made it hurt worse and the ache lanced out across the rest of his frame, numbing him with absolute pain.

By the time Jin crashed through the front doors to the facility, the building was collapsing behind him and he scrambled to get clear as it sank into the ground, a great cloud of dust rising up as if the stone structure’s soul was escaping. Jin gasped for breath after running so hard and gingerly felt his shoulder. It’d be tough to set it himself, but it wasn’t like there was anybody he could ask for help…

Devil’s familiar voice rang through his head, louder than before. He tried to repress the evil feeling that washed over him, but the pain dampened his strength. He looked up as he heard someone approach. A lot of someones and he clenched his teeth at the sight of the JACKs that surrounded him. There were so many… too many to fight on his own. Jin had faith in his skills, but at that moment, with his strength zapped and an injured shoulder…

He started, moving in slow-motion as he felt a stab of pain course through his body and his vision flashed blurry for a moment. “What the…?” and then he screamed. Louder and louder as Devil thrashed within him and violently pushed his consciousness out of the way as the JACKs closed around him to attack.

“No!” he screamed as Devil howled with delight. Jin was aware of what was happening, viewing the fight from behind Devil’s control and could feel himself weakening at sight of the carnage. His body moved under Devil’s will, tearing through a handful of opponents like they were leaves. It was just too much, too overwhelming. Jin shuddered as he felt his soul breaking. Devil was tearing apart his dreams and goals and it all started to be ripped apart within his own mind, and then… it stopped. The vision of bloodshed snapped out of view and everything was suddenly peaceful. Light and white and he relaxed as his soul was overcome with a sense of peace that replaced the agony.

The bloodbath Devil had begun was gone. Jin couldn’t see anything inside his head except for the light; not blinding but reminiscent of a sunny day. Just like the days he could remember in Yakushima with his mother. The calm, stillness of the ancient forest as the sunlight filtered down through the canopy of trees... It was almost overwhelming and he relaxed into the light’s embrace as his body was used by Devil for his own gruesome pleasure.

He was safe.

Jin stayed in the white-light’s shelter until he could sense it thinning and the evil beyond it was lessening. He struggled to regain control of his body and Devil, weak from his battle, acquiesced to the change of control.

Jin opened his eyes to find himself standing amid a field of JACKs, his own hands bruised and bloody while his body ached terribly from the fight he’d had no part in. His shoulder had been popped back into place, although he didn’t want to think of the manner in which Devil had done it. The joint still ached and he rubbed it absently, spreading his black wings about him to confirm that they were still in place on his back. Devil still had a modicum of control over his body, but not his mind. Though Jin hated him, at the moment he was grateful for the wings that would take him back to Yakushima faster than his legs were able to.

Spreading them widely he sprang into the air and flapped a few times to bear him higher into the sky. A journey home always seems faster than the trip that takes you away from it in the first place. He ignored the pain in his body and flew as fast as he could, eager to find the home he’d grown up in as a child and the comfort the familiarity would bring him.

+++

Jin arrived in Yakushima several hours later. Landing just outside the southern town of Onoaida he stepped across the main road into the sea of trees that filled the centre of the island. The moment he stepped beneath the canopy he felt as if he was in another world. It was humid and dark, for all the trees seemed to suck up the sunlight before it could reach the ground beneath their thick, ancient branches. It was so different from what he’d been living in and he could feel his soul almost weep with joy at it all. He stayed clear of the main paths, not wanting to meet anybody else. The secret paths he and his mother had used were hidden, though Jin’s feet found them easily as if he’d only left a day before. The trees were just as large as he’d remembered. What were a few years of a human’s life to entities that had lived for thousands of years? The wicked, gnarled roots arched out from the base of some of the larger cedars and Jin stumbled as his feet caught under their twisted timber toes. It wasn’t too long before he came across a small clearing that was still thick with vegetation, although not as choked as other areas of the great wood.

Thick patches of ferns lined the perimeter of a clearing that bordered a stream that he knew was fed by the Sempiro waterfall, despite the short distance from the great plummeting waters. A bird sang somewhere in the trees and Jin’s heart tightened when he approached the log home that Jun had raised him in. It was overrun with vegetation but the signs of the struggle years earlier between his mother and Ogre were still very visible. When he drew nearer, he found that the wood that remained had remained solid through the years and with a little hard work and a lot of new lumber it would be habitable once more. Of course, it had been constructed from the fallen cedars of Yakushima. Only the cedars of the ancient forest possessed sap that preserved them for centuries after they’d ceased being living things. Finding more fallen cedars would be easy enough and he’d again have another solid home.

Devil slumbered in the back of his consciousness and Jin sat on a massive boulder to take advantage of the total peace he felt at that moment. No voice, no devil gene to worry about. Though Jun was gone, she’d taught him well how to live in that place and with any luck, he could regain his strength and hold back the devil gene for long enough to destroy his bloodline. The bird stopped singing and there was a brief wind that made the trees groan; almost in objection to his thoughts. He bowed his head, knowing his mother would weep if she knew his plans. It made his heart ache and with that he hopped off the boulder to begin his work on the cabin. His mind ignoring his plans and flashing towards Hwoarang and the fight he’d have with the other man. The ache left his heart and was replaced with contentment; selfish and full of purpose. To know he’d get to see his Korean rival one last time almost made him giddy to think of it. The other man had always sought him out to collect on their promised fight, and he always had to decline. Hwoarang, it seemed, had a knack for catching him at terribly inconvenient times. However, next time…

Jin smiled at the thought and set about restoring his home.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang is hiding out with his friend Doyon, who runs his own "business". He settles into his old life a little too easily while laying low to avoid being picked up by the military. Still, at the end of the day, thoughts of helping Jin course through his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang still isn’t quite ready to run to Jin quite yet. I feel somewhat bad drawing out their reunion over the next few chapters, but I hope it entertains rather than irritates. Hwoarang is more of a reluctant knight in shining armour than an eager one so it’ll take a bit longer, but he’ll get there ^_^
> 
> While visiting his friends Hwoarang smokes. Not a whole lot, but more of a social thing. While cigarettes might be detrimental to a regular human’s health at this point, I’m sure Angel is in the background, angrily healing his lungs with every puff of his cancer stick.

Hwoarang spent his first night at Doyon’s on the couch. After waking sometime close to three in the afternoon the next day he was shown to a room in the building that Doyon promised he could use for his entirety stay. The building was his and he could do what he liked with it, which involved letting his gang live there, rent out rooms to regular people and run his business. The casino took up the two levels under the penthouse; his gang guarded the mid-section, staying close in case their services were needed with any unhappy customers in the gambling hall. The levels below that were rented to regular people that Doyon approved personally; the only obvious evidence that he still cared about anything, although it did make a nice cover to deflect the cops when they came sniffing around. When Hwoarang saw this he was strongly reminded of Doyon’s family when they’d taken him in off the streets and the sanctuary he’d felt then. He was offering it to others, although in not as kindly a way. Regardless, beneath his harsh exterior, Doyon still mourned their deaths, even if it was only Hwoarang who could see it.

Of course, business came first and by the second day Doyon had Hwoarang accompany Hitch to collect on debts owed to him. Hitch was a large, stoic man with a broad chest and dark brown hair. He said little very little, or if he did it was with an annoyed lilt in his voice, as if talking was an inconvenience.

He was in an even fouler mood than usual as they sped along in the Neon. Doyon had insisted that they visit a shop on the outskirts of town to pay a visit to the owners there, and neither Hitch nor Hwoarang could say anything on the matter. The blonde had been quite adamant that Hwoarang go, and he’d almost had a smirk as he’d waved them off that morning. “Tell Ma Parker hello for me, ya?”

Hwoarang had never liked long car rides, and the drive out to the shop was taking longer than he could bear. He didn’t even think before he reached over to poke Hitch in the ear just for something to do.

“What the fuck?” the larger man yelled, swerving on the road as he hunched his shoulders and tried to avoid the redhead’s finger. “Fucking stop or I’ll kill you!”

Hwoarang laughed. “Why couldn’t we take the Ferarri? Just once I wanna ride in the Enzo! That was a sweet ride.”

“That’s Doyon’s car. We get the Neon …” he trailed off as a disgruntled frown tilted his mouth downwards. Behind his glasses his eyes narrowed as he peered over the steering wheel of the small car.

Hwoarang frowned too, although he couldn’t repress his laughter. “Well, can’t you ask for something else?”

“They never see us coming in this,” Hitch said, gunning the engine. “Doyon’s got a fucked-up sense of humour.”

Hwoarang was surprised that he’d gotten something of a conversation out of his partner, although it didn’t last long as the older man fell into silence again as they turned off the road and parked the car. “We’re here… you ready?”

+++

The gig wasn’t brutal as most of theirs usually were. The elderly couple that owned the shop had been friends of Doyon’s family and Hwoarang and Hitch’s only job was to check on them and ask if their earlier problems with a rival gang had been resolved. What was unexpected about the visit was their immediate recognition of who Hwoarang was. It had been so long since Hwoarang had been around his old neighbourhood, and while he’d lived with Doyon’s family for a few years, he barely remembered the couple that seemed to have a very intimate history of past events involving him when he was a child.

“Oh, dear sweet Gi!” mother Park cooed once the proper introductions had been made and the two men had been invited into the back room for tea. “I can remember visiting and you’d always be covered in bruises! You were always such a fighter!”

“Now, dear,” her husband said, taking sympathy on the redhead. “I don’t think he wants to be called Gi anymore. Don’t embarrass the boy!”

“Nonsense,” she brushed her husband away and gleefully sipped her tea. “It’s so nice to see you’ve come back, Gi-Gi!”

If it had been anybody else Hwoarang wouldn’t have tolerated the treatment, or the resurrection of his nickname. He could sense Hitch’s eyes on him and could feel the amusement there. As it was, he kept his teeth together and listened as the old woman recounted story after story involving him and Doyon. She slurped her tea and gleefully recalled a turf war that Hwoarang and Doyon had had with a group of other kids, but the way she recalled it, one would have thought it was a simple make-believe war.

Hwoarang remembered losing a few teeth when a kid had hit him in the face with a rock during that ‘make-believe war’. It wasn’t just pretend; it was for their honour and to keep the new gang away from their area. He’d led their group against the others with Doyon’s help. At the end of it, there were more than a few trips to the hospital, although he’d been proud that the only thing he’d broken was teeth, and for him he’d just spat them out and gone home.

All this he didn’t tell her, of course. Mother and father Park were sickly sweet – almost eccentrically so. Mr. Park seemed to have some sympathy for his ego, but by the time that Hwoarang and Hitch left, the redhead was thoroughly frustrated, annoyed and embarrassed.

“Well, that was fun,” Hitch said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “I didn’t know you were such a dork when you were a kid, Gi-Gi.”

Hwoarang shot his hand out and grabbed the other man by the throat. “Call me that again, man! C’mon, I dare ya! I need to blow off some steam so let’s go!” He tried to pull Hitch forwards, but the other man was just too big to manipulate like that. He grabbed Hwoarang’s hand instead and twisted it around. It was difficult to move in the car, but he managed to pry the enraged Blood Talon’s hand from his neck. “Relax, Gi. I’ll introduce you to Rora. Take your frustrations out on _him_ ”

Hwoarang growled loudly but didn’t say anything else. He glared for a bit at the other man while they drove back into the city, but gave up when Hitch didn’t look back at him. He lit a cigarette.

+++

Rora was a thin, greasy man who tried to live up to the North American-pimp stereotype with every ounce of energy he had – even though he didn’t have any prostitutes to care for. He did love to gamble and usually borrowed more money than he could afford. He occasionally fed Doyon a tip on places that had valuable merchandise that needed to be relocated to Doyon’s safe, or even the names of other gamblers who were planning on skipping out on their debt. It earned him a bit of leniency on his debt, but it wasn’t much and Hitch was usually banging down his door each month looking for money. When he opened the door, a strange odour poured out of his apartment into the hall and hit both Hwoarang and Hitch in the face; a strange combination of almonds and earth with an acidic undertone. The pimp wore a bright blue jumpsuit with gold stripes up the side and what appeared to be a cigarette tucked in behind his ear. His brown eyes lit up when he saw the pair standing there and his mouth broke into a smile that showed his yellowing teeth. “Hitch! I got Doyon’s money!” The lanky man opened the door to his apartment and let the pair of thugs inside although blocked them from walking any further in than the foyer. He bustled off further into the apartment and Hwoarang leaned in to see where he’d headed off to before he returned with an envelope. “I’ve got a hot tip for him too, but this time I want a bigger cut. Could you tell him-”

“Tell him yourself, I’m no here to negotiate for him,” Hitch said, snatching the envelope from Rora’s bony fingers.

The thin man looked from Hitch to Hwoarang, his eye twitching as the two men didn’t move after he’d handed over the money. Hitch tucked the envelope into his jacket and turned to Hwoarang who smiled brightly, oblivious.

“Well I hate to keep you two waiting,” Rora said, eyeing his watch.

Hitch growled and smacked Hwoarang on the shoulder. “We don’t have time to fuck around, Gi-Gi. We still have a few more stops to make…”

“Y-yeah, right…” Hwoarang trailed off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could sense that there was something very strange about Rora. He’d only just met the man, but he got a strange feeling when he saw him. He finally shrugged his shoulders and turned from Rora and left the apartment with Hitch at his side him.

“Bye, Hitch, Gi-Gi!” The pimp called after them before the door slammed shut and the deadbolts were shoved back into place.

“Who was that asshole?” Hwoarang asked once he and his co-thug had returned to their car.

“That _thing_ is one of the guys who hang around the casino all day, and he’s also one of Doyon’s best informants. He’s the type of shit that can worm its way in with anybody to listen for good ‘business opportunities’. He might not look it, but he can talk. Doyon likes him because he could sell ice to Eskimos.”

“Why would Eskimos buy ice?”

“THAT,” Hitch said with a wry grin, “is the point! Guy can’t fight worth shit, but he can talk his way out of anything so try not to listen to him if and when you’re pounding his face into the dirt. We thought we’d caught him trying to skip out on his debts, but he always sweet talked his way out of it.”

“Hmmm,” Hwoarang acknowledged but didn’t say more. Rora sounded like the type of shit that he and Doy would beat up when they were kids, so he automatically didn’t like the guy, but there was something else. He had a bad feeling when it came to him, but he didn’t know enough to say more to Hitch.

The two men drove off to finish their rounds of collecting and intimidating before it was time to return to the Devil’s Cage. The two men traveled up to Doyon’s apartment and the blonde overlord greeted them warmly with beer before taking the money and putting it in his safe.

“So, how’d it go today? Any problems? How is mother Park?” He took a swig of beer before lighting a smoke.

“No problems; the Park’s are fine and everyone paid up,” Hitch said, his voice a controlled monotone. “Oh, you were right. Mother P recognized Gi-Gi the moment she saw him.”

Hwoarang bit back a remark and drank his beer, glaring daggers at his dark partner.

“Oh, Gi-Gi! I’d forgotten she called you that, ‘Rang!” Doyon laughed, pulling Bloom closer to him. The brunette girl didn’t seem to notice him; she was still glued to the TV set.

Hwoarang looked over and the man with the insanely long braid was glued to his videogames. It occurred to him that they probably weren’t even aware that he and Hitch had returned. Every time he visited his friend the woman was either glued to her kung-fu movies or sleeping. He’d caught her in the training area once or twice, but the TV screen had been turned towards her and she had barely been receptive to his presence even then. Mick usually nodded towards him and he’d caught the other man in a conversation or two, but his fingers never stopped moving on his hand-held console and it was like pulling teeth trying to get anything coherent from him when he was playing a difficult section of his game.

After reminding Doyon of Hwoarang’s nick-name, Hitch didn’t say much else. He almost seemed anxious to get out of there; edging his way towards the elevator.

“Oh, Hitch!” Doyon said, suddenly breaking the story he was in the middle of telling. “Take Gi down to the pit to show him around, will ya? I think Moon wanted to see you too.”

Hwoarang could sense Hitch’s demeanour darken at the request. The older man silently rose and walked to the private stairwell that led to the two levels below the penthouse. “Doy likes being able to check up on all his clients whenever he wants. He’s got guys keeping security, but he likes to have easy access anyways,” Hitch explained as they descended to the first level down and they opened the heavy, metal door to a dingy, yet richly furnished room. “Our two floors are below these so we can guard it and shit. Sometimes he opens up the basement-”

“Alright, alright. I got it. He likes making money from suckers, I gotcha.” Hwoarang looked around and whistled at the sight. It seemed that they’d done some renovating and several of the walls that normally would have separated the individual apartments had been taken out, creating a larger room for gambling machines and tables. A heavy layer of smoke hung in the air, barely moved by the windows that were open fully to try and circulate the air.

The door slammed shut behind them, the noise catching the attention of a large, burly man in a suit. He nodded to them, giving Hwoarang a questioning look before Hitch nodded that he was okay and the security guard leaned back against the doorframe at his post. His eyes were vigilant and Hwoarang was impressed by the skill the other man observed that entire section of room. If the other security that Doyon had hired was this good, then he really did have a good business going on there. He followed hitch along the long room, passing a large number of business men and sleazy men alike, each hunched over a card table or eagerly watching a dice thrower that practiced his skill. He whistled low as the heavily tattooed man spun the two spotted cubes in the air before catching them in a cup and slamming them down in front of him. The tension in the gamblers at that table mounted as the cup was lifted to reveal how the dice lad landed. Hwoarang couldn’t see what was rolled, but noticed the dismay on one man and the elation of two after seeming to have won. Hitch dragged him further along to groups of people smoking heavily as they sat around tables; their cards kept face-down in front of them or held tightly to their chest, fearful of anybody but them seeing their value. The dealers working the tables were fairly attractive women, which was surprising considering the usual dealers at the other illegal casinos that Hwoarang had seen. It seemed that Doyon was trying to recreate his own little Las Vegas right there in the Devil’s Cage. His eyes roamed over the people before settling on one woman that seemed to stand out against the gloom and smoke. It could have been the way her tight, revealing outfit accentuated her figure, the sparkles and sequins catching his eye and leading it along to the more private areas on her body. While she was attractive, he noted that it was in all likelihood the glare that she was directing his way that made her stand out. She narrowed her eyes further before she flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and turned back to her table. Hitch walked over towards her and Hwoarang followed, unsure of what was about to happen, but keeping an eye on the exit in case he had to leave fast.

“So, Chu. Nice to see you could come down to see me,” she said, dealing her cards but never looking away from him.

Hitch tensed. “Well, it’s not nice for me to have to come down _here_ to see you, Moon. What did you need? Unless you were –”

“Don’t even start,” she cut him off, her face contorted with anger and the lone gambler at her table wisely grabbed his money and left the arguing couple. “Don’t you fucking start, Chu. Sun needs someone to take care of him. I gotta work late and the babysitter can only keep him until eleven.”

Hwoarang wasn’t even introduced and just stood dumbly as Hitch began to argue with Moon. It was a private argument that only the Blood Talon and the rest of the casino patrons were privy to, but Hwoarang was the only one who could be pulled in at any moment. He tensed, inching back towards the exit. He froze when she turned her angry eyes towards him. “Lady, don’t even start on me,” he put his hands up defensively before she could get a word out. “I just work here.”

“So do I,” she sniffed, looking the redhead up and down before turning back to Hitch. “My brother thinks I do more, which is a fucking lie and he knows it. Look, if you won’t watch Sun then you won’t. I’m sure Doy will understand when I leave early.”

“Fine!” Hitch yelled. “Fine, I’ll pick up your slack, Moon. Just like always!”

“Yeah, just like always, Chuong! Where would I be without you?” She didn’t wait for an answer and turned back to her table. “I gotta get back to work – that is if you haven’t scared off all my customers.”

“I could only hope,” Hitch mumbled under his breath. Moon ignored him, her sequined costume catching the light and leading Hwoarang’s eyes to places they shouldn’t have gone.

“I’ll get outta here around two. Don’t touch the juice in the fridge, but you can help yourself to the ice cream,” she saw someone behind them and her expression changed to a bright smile as she beckoned to new gamblers to come to her table.

“Hrumpf!” Hitch tugged on his jacket lapels and turned on his heel and walked away with Hwoarang on his tail.

“Mind telling me what the fuck just happened?” Hwoarang asked the older man as he was led out to the hallway and away from the growing action as the night started up. Hitch’s stride was longer than usual and he only stopped once Hwoarang grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “Hey, Hitch. What’s going on?”

Hitch had the same scowl on his face that he usually wore; only this time he was digging in his pockets for something. After a moment he pulled a cigarette case out and pressed the button that released the cover. Putting the tobacco stick between his teeth he angrily lit it before offering the tin to Hwoarang as an afterthought. The redhead shook his head and Hitch shrugged, putting the tin away. “That bitch is my sister. You can see what she does; only she usually gets friendlier with her clients the more money they bring to the table. Fucking idiot… Sun is her kid and when she’s busy working I usually get to baby-sit. Nice, eh?” He sucked on the smoke and inhaled deeply, a look of pain on his face but he said nothing else. “That Rora jerk is one of her clients, and… it’s just… aw, fuck! Forget the details, Gi. Forget I said anything.” They stepped into the elevator and Hitch punched in the button for his floor and crossed his arms, angrily tapping his foot while smoke coiled up from his cigarette, still clenched between his teeth.

Hwoarang reached out to punch his own level but paused. “Want some company?” he asked. He didn’t really like kids but he figured that Hitch could use a distraction while he was there, and Hwoarang wasn’t completely heartless to the situation the kid was in. He didn’t know the whole story, but he could certainly draw his on conclusions.

“If you want, man,” Hitch sighed, stepping through the doors into the hallway. The level down was decorated less warmly, with tile flooring lining the lobby in a simple pattern that matched the faded and chipped paint on the walls. It wasn’t as nice as Doyon had decorated the casino levels, but it was still nice. Hitch walked heavily down the hallway with Hwoarang right behind him. He stopped in front of one of the many doors that lined the passage and knocked. The door was opened, the chain preventing it from opening further while an elderly woman peered out.

“Oh, hello, Chuong!” she chimed and quickly closed to door to slide the chain out of the way. She opened the door wide this time and let Hitch and Hwoarang walk in.

“Hi, Nana. Moon asked me to take over. Thank you for watching Sun all this time.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. The little dear is just watching TV,” she chimed and went to gather her things. “It’s terrible that Doyon keeps her working for so long, but I suppose we all have our debts to pay to him, don’t we?” She didn’t seem sad while she said it and merrily left the two thugs in the apartment.

“She did that with entirely too much cheer,” Hwoarang commented. Hitch shrugged again and re-locked the door. The two men walked into the apartment and Hwoarang noticed how it was much nicer than his own. Probably because he’d only just arrived for all he knew Moon had years of accumulated bric-a-brac. Hitch pitched his spent-cigarette into the sink, the sound of water extinguishing the remaining heater was a brief hiss and Hitch turned and was leading the way down a hallway that led further into the apartment.

It wasn’t long before the sounds of a television met their ears and they opened a door to a large room that was mostly filled with a large couch along two walls, a coffee table and a young boy watching TV. He was already in his pajamas and was dozing on the cushions when he sat upright at their arrival. “Uncle Chu!” he cried and hopped off the couch to give Hitch a hug. It took him a moment to notice that Hwoarang was standing there and without missing a beat he greeted him as well. “Who are you?”

“That’s G-!” Hitch began but stopped at the look that the Blood Talon gave him. “Uh, it’s Hwoarang, Sun. He’s been working with me for the past few days.”

“Cool! I like your hair, Hwo!” he reached up to try and touch it but gave up when Hwoarang didn’t bend down to give him access. “When’s mom coming home?” he asked suddenly and Hitch twitched.

“She’ll be home late, but when you wake up she’ll be here. I thought you’d want some company.”

“I can take care of myself, Chu,” Sun said all-too easily and he smiled before climbing back on the couch, immediately entranced by a loud explosion coming from the speakers.

“Does he know what we or his _mom_ do?” Hwoarang whispered harshly, making sure to not be heard by the kid.

“Not exactly,” Hitch said, lighting another smoke. “He knows Doyon runs the show…” he looked at his smoke before looking at Sun. “Uh, Hwoarang and I are going out for a smoke, okay, Sun?”

The boy nodded and Hitch dragged Hwoarang out onto the balcony. “What did Moon say we could take out of the fridge, Gi?” he asked once he’d made himself comfortable on one of the chairs.

“I don’t remember, _Chu_ ,” Hwoarang laughed.

“Shut up, _Gi_!” Hitch glared at him before sucking back a lungful of smoke and then laughing.

“I’ll only stop with the Chu, if you stop with the Gi,” Hwoarang tried bargaining.

“No-no, that’s not the way this works, ‘Rang. I’m older so I call you what I want and you respect me and don’t call me by my given name.”

“Chu is your _given_ name?” Hwoarang asked with a grin. “Sounds kinda girly for an asshole like you.”

“Alright, it’s Chuong, but Moon keeps shortening it. It’s my off-work name, so don’t ever use it when we’re working! I don’t want anybody fucking targeting my sister, got it?”

Hwoarang forced his smile down and nodded. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it.”

“Good,” he snubbed his smoke out in the ashtray. “Ice cream?”

“Well,” Hwoarang thought for a moment. “Shouldn’t we get Sun in on that?”

“Well, it is too late to feed him that kinda junk… but alright. Nana can be too strict with him about that kinda stuff, just like a real grandmother! I’m supposed to be the cool uncle, after all.”

The two men went inside and found their way to the kitchen. The freezer wasn’t working too well and the ice cream was soft, yet edible. Hitch prepared three bowls and they returned to see what Sun was doing. When they got there, however, they found that he’d fallen asleep. Hitch carefully picked him up and took him to his room while Hwoarang changed the channels to see what else was on. It was the most bizarre scenario that he’d seen in a very long while; a man who worked for a casino owner/loan-shark while his sister worked the tables dressed like a whore (doing god-knew what else) and the two took care of a healthy-looking kid who seemed oblivious to their activities. Hell, if Hwoarang had met Sun first he’d have expected that the kid was living a normal life; his apartment was nice enough. It was far beyond what he’d had growing up, even though Doyon’s family taking him in had made things much better than living on the streets, at least better until Baek had taken him in. There had still been hard times; nothing like what Sun was living in now. The activity behind the scenes of Sun’s life wasn’t ideal, but the surface appeared to be the best possible for him. Well, for someone growing up in this neighbourhood it was almost perfect.

He felt his mind drifting as he absently changed the channels, not really focusing on what he was seeing, but letting his thoughts recap everything that had happened to him. He’d probably still be hurt it hadn’t been for Jun and that power she gave him. He was starting to understand how it worked, although he had a feeling that there was more to it than just focusing on energy and growing wings. He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of his feathery appendages. He was supposed to help Jin… it would probably make sense if he were to actually go to _see_ his rival, although he couldn’t just say hello and goodbye to Doyon. He’d wait for a while until the heat from the army cooled down and he could move around easier. ‘ _Jin…_ ’ his blood stirred whenever he thought of the Japanese fighter. The dark man had always blown Hwoarang off whenever he’d tried to get his rematch, and therefore blown him off from even having a real conversation… although now that Hwoarang knew there was something going on inside him, he wasn’t so angry. He’d have trouble fighting too if the voice in his head was working _against_ him like the Devil inside Jin was. He was lucky that she’d been so patient with him to this point. He’d finish up later, but he just wanted to spend a bit more time at Doy’s place. Hwoarang yawned and shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch. Though he tried to keep his eyes open, he slowly drifted to sleep. His dreams were dominated with images of the man nicknamed Fatal Lightning, with flashes of white and black wings separating them and his resolution to find Jin strengthened.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang is hanging at Doyon's place, but Angel doesn't like it much. She eventually convinces Hwoarang to take his mission more seriously.

_The sky was burning, just like before. He felt a familiarity with the scene that was both disturbing and comforting. The ground around him was still smouldering, the ashes of trees crumpling under his feet as he walked forward._

 _Someone was waiting for him…_

Hwoarang let out a startled cry and sat upright on Moon’s couch. The room was dark and the television had been turned off. The redhead swung his legs over the edge so that his feet touched the floor and he put his head in his hands. The broken fragments of his nightmare were fleeting before his waking mind, but he could still grasp at a few pieces of it. He could almost feel a sense of déjà vu about it, but couldn’t link it back to anything he was aware of. It was as if he was floating on a sea with monsters beneath the surface but he couldn’t perceive them through the murky depths.

Shaking his head he stood, wondering where Hitch had gone. He pushed the dream from his mind and wandered out into the hallway, following the sound of Hitch and Moons voices that were conversing in far more relaxed tones than their previous encounter. He came to meet them, noticing how she was now clothed more modestly, although she hadn’t lost any of her attractiveness with the plain jeans and tank top. “Hey, time to go?” he asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Sure, you can go if you want,” Moon said. “Thanks for watching Sun, but my brother shouldn’t have dragged you along.” She emphasized this by lightly smacking the older man’s arm.

“H-hey! What’s with that? Hwoarang _wanted_ to come along. Don’t look at me. Besides I was doing you a favour.”

“Yeah, thanks for the favour, brother,” she narrowed her eyes at him before a smile belied the negative emotion. She led them to the door and they said their goodbyes before she closed the door after them and they were left out in the cold hallway. Hwoarang and Hitch dragged themselves towards their apartments a floor or two down from Moon’s. They barely said anything to each other before parting ways and Hwoarang couldn’t remember anything after climbing into his own bed.

His dreams for the rest of the night were blessedly empty and forgotten by the time he opened his eyes the next day.

He lied in bed for a good half hour after opening his eyes, but didn’t know what time it was until he exited his bedroom and checked the clock in the kitchen. Two o’clock. He opened the fridge to find something worthy of a late lunch and an even later breakfast. Nothing. “I’ve really gotta go shopping,” he mumbled, scratching his head as he eyed the bottle of vodka that was propping up a take-out bag that he didn’t remember buying. He didn’t really think his stomach wanted vodka…

Just then there was a loud banging on his door that saved him from the wrong choice. “Hey, ‘Rang! Open up, let’s get some breakfast!” Hitch’s voice bellowed through the wood and Hwoarang slammed the fridge shut and went to let his friend in.

“Yeah, sounds good. Just let me get dressed.” Hitch waited patiently for Hwoarang to dig something out of his closet, which took no time at all considering that everything in the apartment was donated from Doyon. Nothing the drug lord had really fit Hwoarang well, so he was stuck with a white tank and black jeans. He felt more secure when he stuffed his feet into his steel-toed boots and laced them up. “Where’d you have in mind?”

“There’s this place that I go to with Moon and Sun sometimes. They have really good crepes.”

“Geez, Hit. I never thought I’d hear something like that come out of your mouth… the fuck are crepes, anyways?”

“Shut up and move your ass. I’m fucking hungry. You’ll see when we get there.” Hitch opened the door before stopping short and turning back. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. One of the guys gave this to me. It seemed like something that’d be right up your alley, so… here!” He handed a flier to the redhead and Hwoarang’s eyes lit up.

The King of Iron Fist tournament had been announced to happen a little more than a month from then. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon, but he wasn’t complaining. He now had an idea of how much time he had left to visit Jin. He didn’t want to miss the tournament and the paper lit a fire under his ass to go to Japan as soon as the heat from the military had cooled down. He folded the paper up and tucked it into his back pocket before Hitch dragged him through the door. The older man was in a better mood than usual that morning which was probably a result of not having to roll thugs for money or think about Moon.

+++

After meeting Moon and Sun, Hwoarang had a better idea of why Hitch was the way he was. The older man’s foul moods usually followed nights when Moon was working, or even the mention of Rora. The greasy man had shown up to play the tables a few times, and Hwoarang had always been in tow when Hitch had gone to muscle him out of there. It was strange, but he always seemed to go to visit Moon. Hwoarang always figured that Hitch just didn’t like the fact that his sister was a half-naked dealer, although the reality of the situation was becoming clear to him. It hit home when he paid a visit to her apartment and found Rora there. The man’s demeanour had been entirely too casual, and he’d been watching some show with Sun. Moon had quickly told Hwoarang that she was busy and to not tell Hitch what he’d seen there that day. He’d wisely kept his mouth shut, piecing together the truth of the matter from rumors he’d heard and figured that the greasy snitch was probably Sun’s father. It didn’t seem that Sun was aware of this, however, and Hwoarang didn’t dare to ask either Hitch or Moon any more on the matter. He hadn’t known either of them for that long and it wasn’t really his business anyways. Despite the fact that Hitch obviously hated Rora with a passion, he could see that Sun was spared of any ill-feelings and was shown the same kind of love that Moon did. Still, the whole situation that his sister was in was still something the older man was really pissed about.

Never having any siblings himself, Hwoarang couldn’t really relate. The closest sibling he’d had was Doyon, and THAT relationship didn’t even compare to Hitch and Moon.

Hwoarang made a point of ducking out of harm’s way whenever the two siblings started their screaming matches, usually taking Sun with him to his place to hang out. The boy was only about eight or nine years old, and though he was kept in the dark about what exactly his guardians did, Hwoarang learned very quickly that he wasn’t stupid either. Sun knew there was something going on, but for the sake of keeping his mother happy he didn’t ask many questions.

He was far too wise for his age. Hwoarang stayed up late some nights thinking about the boy, although he usually worried more than he thought. He could agree with Hitch that Moon should really leave and get a place on her own in a better neighbourhood, or at least stop putting herself in such a dangerous situation in Doyon’s casino. There were enough fights breaking out there on a nightly basis, some bigger than others, but there was always the element of danger that he could understand Hitch was worried about. However, he could also see things from Moon’s side. It was tough to get out of that type of situation once you were in. If you were in the dumps, the people above would do what they could to stomp on you to keep you there. There was nothing he could do for her anyways, so feeling sorry wouldn’t do anything, although he knew that he would feel guilty when it finally came time to leave.

So it came as a bit of a blessing when Sun found him on the rooftop one day and asked Hwoarang if he could show him a few moves. Sun needed to toughen up and Hwoarang figured that showing him a few basic moves wouldn’t hurt. He showed him how to throw a punch without breaking his hand and told him of the weaknesses that most street fighters had and how to take advantage of them. Baek’s tutelage had brought him out of the gutter and given him a goal to strive for when he was younger. It wasn’t until Jin Kazama came along that he’d realized that he wasn’t as strong as he first believed. He was the strongest fighter in his neighbourhood, but the arrival of the Japanese youth had opened his eyes to the fact that there was more. Hwoarang’s tie with Jin had hurt his ego, sure, but the seed that Baek had sewn in him desired something more from Jin. The Blood Talon didn’t realize it until he began teaching Sun the basics of Tae Kwon Do, but it wasn’t his ego that he was fighting for; maybe at first, but not any more. He’d focused on Jin for so long, almost obsessively, that he just wanted to meet the other man to better himself. Through fighting or perhaps a mutual understanding of what it took to become as strong as they had both become.

It came to be that a few days later, after Moon had come to gather Sun from his lesson, Hwoarang decided to stay out on the rooftop and just enjoy the scenery. He’d spent so much time down in the dirt of the streets that it was a rare opportunity that he got to stand above it all and look from high up. The sun was just beginning to sink into the horizon and the sky was bathed in an orange-red glow. It tinted the colour of the city that sprawled out before him and for an instant Hwoarang wished it would stay that colour forever; a warm, red sun. An impulse came over him and he decided to test out his new powers again. The previous time he’d transformed, he’d relied on the voice to trigger it. It had been difficult because of the anxiety he got from running from the dogs, but now that he was alone and everything just _felt_ so right, he closed his eyes and drew out the energy that he’d felt simmering inside him since he’d woken from the coma.

It sizzled through him and he was acutely aware of it, could feel it and control it. It filled him up when he willed it to do so and exploded across his body, covering him in a flash of heat before retreating inside his core. He opened his brown eyes, seeing the same colours on the horizon only now they seemed sharper; it was easier to focus. He inhaled a breath of fresh city air as he felt a gust of wind catch in his wings and ruffle the feathers. He looked down to his hands and was started at the change he saw there.

White, leather gauntlets had appeared on his arms, tight but comfortable against his skin from his elbow to just over his knuckles with metal plates peeking through at points of contact during a fight. He stepped back to appraise his new all-white attire; from his leather steel-capped boots, to the white pants, to the white, sleeveless vest that clung to him like a second skin. “What the hell? White isn’t my colour!” He balled his fists, testing the comfort of the gauntlets and finding that it was almost as if they’d been fitted to him.

Grumbling he cleared his mind of the annoyance of his clothes. “Probably goes with the powers,” he told himself and looked back to the sky. The colours of the setting sun looked so inviting. Like he could soar through their warm, waning rays and absorb the colour they projected. He hadn’t flown since he’d escaped from the military base. Without the stress of escape marring his experience he decided to try and figure out how to use his powers properly. Hwoarang climbed to the ledge, crouching low as he felt a gust of wind rifle through his wings before he launched himself into the air. He spread his wings wide as he dove downward for a moment before flapping them in broad, powerful strokes and bearing himself aloft and upwards into the sky. Higher and higher he soared. The wind was cold on his face, although this time it didn’t seem to bother him. The clothing seemed to represent the added protection his powers afforded him, as sparse as they appeared.

He ascended towards the moon that was becoming clearer in the sky, rising high before maneuvering his wings so that he could turn around mid-air and let the updrafts hold his body aloft while he looked down upon the city. It was even smaller from that height. The streets were barely visible, save for their faint division of the buildings from one another. It was so far away. Hwoarang’s mouth tilted up in a wicked grin and he folded his wings up behind him, beginning his descent towards the city at incredible speeds. He angled his head so that he was falling head-first and he let out an exhilarated shout that was drowned out by the wind as it whipped about his face and the city began to grow in size as he plummeted towards it. He laughed, the sensation overtook his senses. Everything was getting larger, faster. Faster. Too fast. He waited and waited until quickly snapping his wings out again, the feathered arms sharply catching the wind and jolting him to a stop mid-air. Everything seemed to stand still as the part of him – the power that was not his own – held him suspended in the sky as his sanity tried to catch up. He hadn’t realized just how fun flying could be. The speed he could get to, the maneuverability and – once he’d gotten more practice – the power…

Hwoarang turned around and began flapping his wings again, this time resolving to climb even higher then before. The sun was practically gone and now the moon was full and fat in the sky, the perfect goal to aim for in the sea of stars. He felt the power surge through his back with each downward flap. Each wing beat carrying him higher and higher until the city was lost in the land surrounding it and the country itself was perceivable through the lights. That high up the stars seemed clearer, more detailed and reachable and the air was growing thinner. He projected himself skywards, only slowing as his vision faltered and it was suddenly hard to breathe. His eyes grew dim and the scenery around him changed until he was surrounded in darkness.

+++

He was in a dark, black room. He was aware of a roaring sound coming from somewhere outside, but it felt so far away, almost as if it was in another dream. He wasn’t standing on solid ground, although he wasn’t flying either. It was almost as if his dream-body was in limbo; unable to move in any direction. Hwoarang flailed about foolishly, trying to find a foothold in the dark, but gave up when he started to flip upside down.

“ _Do you know how aggravating it is to only talk to you when you’re in weakened states, Hwoarang?_ ” the voice said, only now the Blood Talon could see the body that it belonged to. A woman appeared out of the darkness, her hair shone like gold as it fell about her delicate face in a shower of ringlets. Her robes were flimsy at best, pale silk wrapped over her torso and falling about her legs and over her back in a train. Her white wings made her look like an angel and her beauty was only marred by the scowl that was on her face. A face that looked so familiar… almost.

“Huh?” he asked, struck by her appearance. “So you’re the one who’s been talking to me?” he recovered quickly.

“ _Yeah, that’d be me. You’ve barely learned the basics of my power, and you’re going to take on Devil like this? I can’t believe Jun transferred my powers to you._ ” She crossed her arms and shook her head, almost as if she was disappointed in a child.

Hwoarang scowled. “Well, how’d you expect me to learn anything when I’m on my own? This is the first time I’ve met you, lady!”

“ _I’ve been trying to get an audience with you. Believe me, I’ve tried, but you’re just so thick-headed… what was Jun thinking? You can’t even focus properly except to gain the physical traits…_”

“Well, sorry to be a disappointment for you. I’m real torn up over it, too.” Hwoarang’s words seemed to fall on deaf ears as the woman complained to him about his inadequacies.

“ _I can’t even gain full control of your body when you DO invoke me! If I could do that, then at least Devil and I could go head to head. That demon is able to gain control of Jin’s body without a problem… this isn’t going to be easy._ ” She shook her head again and massaged her temple. “ _Well, at least I’ve been able to contact you now. I can help you, but you’ve got to trust me._ ”

“How the hell am I supposed to trust someone I just met, huh?” Hwoarang muttered indignantly. “Lady, I don’t know you.”

Her frown deepened. “ _You trust me enough to carry you to the moon and stop you from plummeting to your death, but when I ask you directly you tell me you can’t?_ ” Hwoarang could see that she was angry, although she managed to repress her rage and she forced a smile to her face. “ _Very well, we will have to play one of the trust games, then._ ”

“W-wait-!” Hwoarang tried to stop her but she seemed intent on proving her point.

“ _You trust me to keep you alive, and I trust you to save Jin. Deal?_ ” She waited for the redhead to nod his acceptance before clapping her hands together. “ _Alright, Hwoarang. I am Angel, and you can trust me. Let me show you…_ ”

Her words trailed off, blotted out by the sound of wind rushing past his head and Hwoarang opened his eyes to find himself free-falling through the sky, plummeting to the ground at gut-wrenching speed with one disturbing difference from before; his wings were gone.

A string of profanities shot out of his mouth as he desperately tried to re-grow his wings, but there was a barrier blocking him. Angel was stopping him. Hwoarang was powerless to stop himself from plummeting towards Korea, the country quickly growing larger until distinct cities were visible and they began to grow larger the further he fell. He soon became tired of screaming and simply hyperventilated as everything flew up at him and he was convinced he was going to die.

“ _You don’t trust me?_ ” Angel asked in his head. “ _If you think I’ll let you die, then maybe I should…_ ”

“No! No! I trust you!” Hwoarang cried out, grateful that she was talking to him again. “Look! I’m trusting you with my life _**right now**_!”

Her snicker rang through his head, louder than the rushing air, and as the city came into view he felt Angel’s energy surround him and his wings had returned to him, slowing his descent. He cried out and spread the feathered appendages, catching himself mid-air and his body swung down with powerful momentum, his legs coming around and driving his steel-capped boots through the ledge of a building that he’d just barely hit. “Fucking too close, bitch,” Hwoarang cursed, his eyes wide with shock. His wings flapped to keep him level as he caught his breath. “Right, so I’m gonna have to try harder to figure you out, just don’t do that again!” He flapped his wings a few times to lift himself up and flew back to the Cage, promising himself a shower and maybe some sleep… if Mickey didn’t drag him off to the bar like usual.

He’d barely transformed back into his human-state and walked through his front door before there was a knock. Hwoarang’ answered the door and found Hitch standing there with a sour look on his face. Behind the large man was Mickey, the bodyguard with the incredibly long braid and a few of the other guys Hwoarang saw around Doyon’s place. Hwoarang tiredly looked around at the group before turning back to Mickey. “Pool?” the brunette asked.

Hitch grabbed Hwoarang without a word and dragged him outside. “If I have to, then so do you.”

“H-hey!” Mickey said, following the two down the hall. “I put down my videogame to go out, so the least you could do is be happy about it!”

The rest of the guys followed behind and the lot drove out to the Shark’s Cove on the other side of town. The place was a dive, but the beer was cheap and they knew the bartender there so they got a discount on the tables. Hwoarang repressed the disappointed feeling he got from Angel. He’d train later.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang's night out with friends turns into a nightmare and he realizes just how ill-equipped he is to handle Angel's powers.

Hwoarang polished his cue and eyed the pool table. How embarrassing. He decided that the stripe in front of the corner pocket was his best bet and aimed to take his shot. Scratch. “Fuck!”

“Tough luck, ‘Rang,” Hitch said from the side. “I thought you’d be a challenge by the way you like to talk big.”

“Haw-haw,” the redhead glared at his friend while the other man lined up to take his shot. He was having his ass handed to him, and all the money that Doyon had given him for his work was flying out the window to pay for the bar tab. “Pool really isn’t my thing,” he mumbled when Hitch cleaned up the rest of the solids the table before he had another chance to take a shot. “Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead…”

“But then I’d have to pay for my own beer! No-no,” Hitch came up beside him with the cue in one hand and gestured for him to perish the thought with the other. “You’ve gotta keep playing. It’s the only way I can honestly say I kicked your ass.”

“Fuck it! Let somebody else play you. I’m just gonna watch,” the dejected redhead sat on his stool, nursing his drink while one of their co-thugs stepped up to challenge Hitch. It was all in good fun, and while this new guy was pretty good, Hitch still managed to hand him his ass as well.

“Isn’t there anybody here who can take me on? Maybe I just hang out with a bunch of pussies,” Hitch laughed.

“If Doyon is letting _pussies_ do his dirty work, then I guess that makes our lives that much easier then, eh?” A strange man stepped up to the table. His green hoodie was a vibrant hue and he stared Hitch down, his eyes never leaving the larger man.

“The fuck are you Green Blades doing here?” Hitch asked, holding the pool cue up as the man advanced towards him. “This is our turf, or are you just looking to die?”

The man sniffed as several other men stood behind him. “Naw, we just felt like coming over to see how you guys were doing. You know, I heard that he’s recruited some outside talent. Fresh army meat, I hear. We just wanted to come down to say ‘hello’.” His arrogant smirk deepened as his fellow Blades chuckled and laughed around him.

Hwoarang was on his feet along with several of his fellow thugs and gathered at Hitch’s side. He could feel his blood coursing through his veins as well as a powerful energy as the rival gang closed in on them. The tension in the air was so thick you could feel it, cut it with a knife, but the only thing that was cut, as all hell broke loose, were the bodies of the Green Blades going up against the Devil’s Crew.

Hwoarang dodged a chair that came flying at his head. They were all brute amateurs; easy to predict, with a lot of strength but their style lacked the skill of someone who’d been trained, like he was. They knew how to swing a pool cue, but only Hwoarang knew how to dodge it, leap over their heads and kick their knees out while turning to his next opponent. Only a handful of members from each gang knew what they were doing, and after a few minutes of fighting it was only those members left standing.

Then things got interesting.

There were a few opponents to choose from, but Hwoarang singled out a tall man who seemed to be fairly well built. He turned his body and the man squared off against him, staring out from beneath his brow at his opponent opposite him with long, red hair. Red like his – it was fate. He rushed towards him, kicking himself into the air and coming down on the man with a bone stinger. His fist connected with the man’s skull and knocked him back. Hwoarang recovered quickly and switched his stances, surprised that the other man was able to climb to his feat and brush himself off.

“Nice move, cutie, wanna see mine?” he rushed towards Hwoarang, taking the Blood Talon off guard with a flurry of kicks at his face. Right, left, right, right, Hwoarang could barely keep up with the switch-kicks that the man sent at him. He slipped up when the other man snuck an axe kick through his defenses and he felt the blow of the man’s heel connecting with his head. He stumbled back, but the other man didn’t give him a chance to recover and was on him in an instant, knocking him to the ground and hitting him in the face.

Hwoarang did his best to block while kicking his leg out and rolling the other man over so that he was on top. “Not bad,” he said, spitting blood onto the man’s face. “But that won’t get you far with me,” he emphasized his words with a punch into the other redhead’s solar plexus. The man gasped for breath and he landed another hit right into his nose, breaking the bone before leaping off his chest to stand over his opponent. The man rolled onto his stomach, moaning in pain while he tried to climb to his feet, but it was obvious who had won the fight.

The Blood Talon turned to the last few people who were left. Mick was busy strangling someone with his braid, wrapping the long length of hair around the neck of his opponent and strangling the life out of him. With the same detached look as he had when he played his videogames, the brunette man flexed his arms, turning his victim’s face bright red before the flailing body stopped kicking and he released his hold. He looked up, as if noticing Hwoarang for the first time and gave the redhead a nod.

The pair turned to watch as Hitch tangled with his fight partner, both of them wincing as the older man was kicked in the stomach and stumbled to the ground. “Hit, c’mon! Don’t make us lose faith in you, man!” Mickey hollered to his friend. Any reply that Hitch might have had for them was silenced by the sudden, loud, fast sound of a semi-automatic opening up in the pool hall, and then everything went to slow-motion.

Hwoarang whirled around on his heel, a combination of street sense and military training kicking into effect and he spotted the Green Blade that had brought the gun into the fray before dropping to his stomach on the ground. The kid with the gun was firing wildly all across the room, hitting both Devil’s Crew and Green Blade alike. A barrage of bullets sailed over Hwoarang’s head with a ratta-tat-tat and the redhead sprang into action, lunging at the kid and knocking the weapon up to fire into the ceiling before ripping it away and driving his forehead through the kid’s face; knocking him out with one powerful hit.

The sounds of the wounded rose through the air once the gun had stopped. Those that had been injured in the original fight had been trying to get out of the way of the remaining fighters, but the gun had torn them up and left them sprawled all over the place. Hwoarang didn’t know where to turn to until he saw Hitch lying amongst the fallen. He rushed to his friend’s side, cradling his head in his arm while Hitch coughed up blood all over his good suit. “Hit! Hitch! Oh fuck, come on. TALK to me!” he yelled at his friend and quickly ran his hand over the other man’s body to find where he’d been hit. There was a deep, wet stain forming in two spots the man’s leg, although he was more concerned about the blood that he found pooling out of the Hitch’s chest.

“Gi?” his voice was weak.

Hwoarang tightened his grip on his hand and shouted into his face, “Don’t die, oh fuck. Someone call an ambulance!” Hwoarang put his hand over the wound, putting all the pressure he could onto it to try and stop the bleeding.

“’Rang,” Hitch coughed, blood spattering his lips. “Promise me…”

“No way, man,” Hwoarang yelled, pushing harder. “That’s what dying men say, and you’re not one of them!”

“Will you shut up and listen? I need you to promise to take care of Moon. She needs someone better… not that rucking Rora prick…”

“Alright, you’ve said your obligatory request, and now I’ve gotta tell you that I won’t do it because you’re going to live. Quit fucking with me, Hit!” Hwoarang felt a sense of fear gripping him. He’d known so many friends who died, so many who were too young and had been cut down right in front of him. He’d never been able to do anything, and it was just like the time that Dr. Guem’s wife and daughter were killed. It was just the same because he was there and couldn’t do anything to stop it. “Oh God, oh God!” He could see the look of death in Hitch’s eyes. He was dying. He was fucking dying! Hwoarang closed his own eyes and tried to think. Freaking out wouldn’t help; what could he do? He remembered the hospital and that voice. Angel had healed him, but… why wasn’t she talking to him then? Taunting, or laughing, or outright commanding him to take action? As the disturbing silence settled inside his head and his friend’s body shuddered in his arms the Blood Talon realized that it was up to him to draw out the power from inside him and use it to heal.

Taking a deep, steadying breath Hwoarang laid Hitch down on the ground and covered the hole in his chest with both hands, applying pressure but also focusing on the light that he could feel within himself and willed it to travel out to the dying man. The heat started deep in his chest, coursing around his heart and he could feel it welling up, filling him, although it didn’t take action until he willed it to move through his body and out of his hands.

‘ _Healhealhealhealheal,_ ’ Hwoarang repeated in his head in a desperate mantra. “Don’t you fucking die!” he cursed at Hitch when he saw the other man’s head falling backwards. Hwoarang closed his eyes and cursed more. “Don’tdiedon’tdiedon’tdiedon’tdiedon’tdieyoustupidmotherfucker!” He didn’t know how long he stayed over his friend repeating the string of curses and threats. His mind was focused and he nearly fought off the paramedics that tried to take over, but once they’d pulled him from Hitch’s body and began the proper resuscitative techniques, Hwoarang finally snapped out of his mindset and sank to the floor, completely spent.

He could barely register Mickey trying to shake him, everything was so fuzzy around him and he was just so tired. “’Rang? Are you hurt? Hey, Hwoarang?” the brunette shook him until he turned his wide eyes towards him, the shock starting set in to his exhausted system. “Snap out of it, Hwoarang. C’mon…” he shook the redhead before pulling him to his feet.

“I…” Hwoarang said, looking blindly at his hands as Mickey put an arm around his waist. “I coulda saved him…”

“Are you hit?” the brunette quickly ran his hands along Hwoarang’s body, looking for blood, but came up empty. “Shit, you don’t look hit.”

“Hitch, is he gonna…? Why couldn’t I save-?”

“Look, ‘Rang. He’s going to the hospital, and I don’t think he’s dead. Let me get you home, get a stiff drink in ya. We’ll get back at those fucking Blades!”

Hwoarang still couldn’t comprehend how he’d failed. Angel had healed him so quickly when he was in the hospital; everything to do with her power worked instantly, and it had taken all his strength to stop Hitch’s bleeding just a little bit. He shook his head, leaning into Mick’s frame and let the other man lead him out of the bar. Any other time he would have shrugged off help, but at that moment he couldn’t trust his knees.

+++

Outside they passed by the ambulance as Hitch was being loaded inside and the sirens began blaring as they rushed him off for professional treatment. They passed by two medics who stopped them, asking if either of them needed help, but Mickey brushed them off, assuring them that he was fine and Hwoarang was just in shock. Later on Hwoarang would be thankful that Mickey had had the wherewithal to get out of there before the police showed up. Even though Doyon had some sway with the department, he couldn’t have handled dealing with any assholes with badges right then. He sank into the back seat as Mickey climbed in with him and the driver sped off, just ahead of the arriving police sirens.

Hwoarang began to feel better after a few minutes and he half-listened to Mickey yelled in his cell, presumably to Doyon, before he snapped the phone shut and reached over to shake Hwoarang. “Yo, how’re ya doin’ there?”

The Blood Talon looked at him, “I… I’m fine.” The gamer seemed to disagree but he was distracted as the car pulled to a stop in the garage of Doyon’s building. The pudgy blonde was there, waiting for them.

“Mick! How the fuck is he?” Doyon half-climbed into the car to look at Hwoarang.

The redhead grumbled something and pushed him out of the way, climbing out and standing straight before turning to the two men beside him. “’M fucking fine, but mind telling me what the hell happened?”

Doyon got a dark look in his eyes before he nodded curtly to the driver and motioned for Mickey and Hwoarang to follow him up to his suite. The moment the elevator doors closed behind them he broke out in to a tirade over how the Green Blades were pushing their luck. Hwoarang didn’t really pick up on a lot of it, since every other word was either fuck, mother, or a combination of the two, as well as an interesting dysphemism involving a lawn mower and the unfortunate testicles of someone named Tito. When the doors chimed open again he’d calmed down and stomped through, his face was still beet-red but the outburst seemed to be out of his system.

Hwoarang and Mickey followed a few steps behind, a little unsure of that assumption.

He led them into his sitting room, angrily lighting a cigarette before sitting down and motioning for his two thugs to sit opposite him. “Alright, Hwoarang. I guess nobody told you, so let me give you the rundown of what’s gong on here. You’ve been keeping my guys in line and making sure to collect my money, but you haven’t really had any run-ins with the other gangs around here. Those motherFUCKERS were the Green Blades and it’s been nothing but one big fucking headache with them since their boss got replaced last week,” he snubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray before lighting another one. “Now, if I was a regular gangbanger, I’d be suiting up to hit one of their guys, but I’ve gotta ~negotiate~ with them now. That motherfucker thinks he can just take over the Blades and make up new rules? This is a fucking BUSINESS!” he snubbed out the barely-smoked cigarette, looking between Hwoarang and Mick for a reply. The two men wisely kept their mouths shut. “…I may have to make other arrangements with that prick. I can’t have his thugs popping my boys, and I can’t afford to let his boys walk all over me. Those motherfuckers…” he steepled his fingers in front of him and rested his forehead against them, thinking more calmly. The phone rang and Doyon grabbed it, snapping it open in one fluid movement before putting it to his ear. As he demanded answers from the caller, Hwoarang noticed Mick’s hand fidget before taking advantage of Doyon’s distraction and pulling his game from his pocket. The redhead shook his head at the gamer’s obsession, although realized that it was more of a comfort to hold it than play it.

“Well,” Doyon said, grabbing the men’s attention as he snapped his phone shut. “Looks like Hitch isn’t going to die after all. The doctor sounded like he’d won the fucking lottery or something he was so excited. Kept talking about miracles or some shit like that, so I figure… Hwoarang, I really gotta thank you. Hitch shoulda died right there, but something kept him going and I know it wasn’t Mick, so it had to be you – you and those wingy things of yours. Thanks for sticking with him, eh?”

Hwoarang nodded, his mind swimming with thoughts of Hitch and how he’d probably have to tell Moon what happened. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t let him die there, but… I should probably tell Moon what happened. When can we see him?”

“Eight tomorrow morning, guess they’re doing tests, or something on him now… giving him drugs?” the word seemed to light an invisible bulb above the blonde’s head and he cursed for effect. “Well, now that that shit is taken care of, I’ll just deal with the fucking Blades and their dipshit leader. Good luck with Moon. You’re gonna need it.”

Hwoarang nodded and rose to his feet. He stopped off in the bathroom, shocked when he saw his face in the mirror and the blood that was spattered all over his arms and across his face. He washed up and decided he’d stop by his apartment for a change of clothes before going to knock on Moon’s door. It wouldn’t help him if he showed up covered in blood. He wasn’t looking forward to telling her what had happened, but knew that it would be better coming from him than from Doyon, who’d just bungle it up and just piss her off even more.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang begins to understand how to use his powers, and realizes that it's time to leave his friends to pay a visit to Jin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moon's semi-feelings for Hwoarang may seem like they come out of left field, but I had it in mind that she really just wants someone who is BETTER than Rora. Since Hitch likes him, even better. She hasn't necessarily thought that they share enough common interests to start a proper relationship, but rather that he'd be great to keep around for Sun. Well, that and he's hot so it's just worth a shot to invite him to bed too ^_^.

Hwoarang did his best to break the news to Moon gently, but she’d known something was wrong the moment she opened the door and she’d flown off the handle from there. At first she attacked Hwoarang, lunging at him before he caught her fists and pushed her back so he could enter her apartment. He closed the door behind him so that nobody could hear what was going on… clearly.

She seemed to change her mind about attacking him when the door shut and instead began yelling about how her brother wasn’t one to lecture her for her choices in life. The Blood Talon was sure she would have gone on about more descriptive things, but quickly stopped when she saw Sun’s head peeking out from his room. The boy was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but obviously disturbed by the noise. She seemed to forget her anger and knelt down with her arms outstretched, beckoning him to hug her. “We’re going to see him,” she said, picking Sun up and turning to Hwoarang.

“You can’t right now,” he said, putting his arms up to diffuse any more insults. “We can go in the morning. Visiting starts at eight, so let’s go there for seven, alright?” He hoped his suggestion would appease her and she’d calm down. He could see the tears forming at the edges of her eyes and she frowned, rubbing her temple while cradling Sun against her.

“Y-yeah,” she sighed once she’d had a moment to think. “We can go see that idiot in the morning.”

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Sun finally asked once his mother had calmed down.

She turned to him and smiled. “Ah, Chu had to go to the hospital, but we’re gonna see him in the morning, alright?” The boy nodded, still sleepy but happy. Moon put him down and together they walked to his room where she tucked him in. Hwoarang followed to watch, a pang going through his heart although he couldn’t put his finger on why. He said his goodnights to Sun before they closed the door and Moon turned towards him. “Do you really think he’ll be alright?” she asked rubbing her eyes in frustration.

“Yeah,” he said. “Last I heard, he’ll be up and outta there in no time. It wasn’t anything serious, so don’t worry,” he lied. She narrowed her eyes a fraction before relaxing them and turning away.

“Hwoarang?” she asked, keeping her back turned. “Would you… mind staying with us until the morning? I just… I can’t handle being alone here right now, y’know?”

“S-sure…” his voice caught in his throat as his heart threatened to stop. Past conversations he’d had with her began to replay in his mind on fast-forward and he tried to figure out if her request meant anything more than what she said it was. He knew that she still had a connection with Rora, but it seemed that she kept in contact with him for Sun's benefit. The slimy deadbeat may have still wanted to pursue a relationship with her - even just a physical one - but she had no such thoughts for him. Hwoarang thought about it for a minute before finally giving up and taking it at face-value. He followed her out to the balcony, pulling a pack of cigarettes from under his sleeve and withdrawing two of the slender sticks from the package, placing one between his lips and offering the other to Moon.

She eyed the smoke for a moment before taking it, holding it between her fingers for a moment before the flame of Hwoarang’s lighter prompted her to light it properly. “Thanks,” she mumbled around the cigarette. “I fucking hate these things, but that’s life, right?” she inhaled a lungful of smoke without as much as a cough.

Hwoarang sat heavily in one of the chairs, looking out over the city. Moon said very little to him, and Hwoarang didn’t mind. He was just starting to come out of shock and was grateful for the quiet moment where he could collect his thoughts. He’d failed to help Hitch. He might have stopped the bleeding, but in the end he’d failed. He needed to get stronger!

He stared off into the sky for a long while, letting his cigarette burn to ash and fall from his fingers to the cement balcony. His thoughts were disturbed by Moon’s voice as she rose from her seat. “You coming to bed?” she asked, as casually as a lover would.

“Uhhh,” Hwoarang mumbled before reaching for his smokes. “One more, then I’m in. Is the… couch…?”

The look in her eyes betrayed her nonchalant shrug and she turned and left the redhead alone. He breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t pursue the conversation. There were so many reasons why he wouldn’t take her up on her offer; the primary one being that he wanted to see Jin, he’d promised Jun that he would and he always kept his promises. He liked Moon well enough, but the notion of a tryst with her set his stomach on edge; it just wouldn’t be done.

He checked his watch and frowned at the time before snubbing his smoke out. He didn’t know if he could actually get to sleep, but his body was so weary it was worth a shot. He pushed himself to stand and walked into the apartment. He let himself fall onto the couch and covered himself in blankets while burying his face in the pillows. It was only a minute or two before even that succumbed to exhaustion as well.

+++

He’d only started the vague outline of a dream. He didn’t know what it was about, but it was immediately overshadowed by a presence that was all too familiar to him; it was difficult to lose yourself in your dreams when Jun Kazama was breathing down your neck. She didn’t look too happy and Hwoarang knew he was in for a beating. Even though it was his dream he didn’t have a chance to block her attack as she descended from high above him. He managed to get in a few hits of his own, but in the end she knocked him over and he lay prostrate on the ground while she hovered over him, fists clenched.

“I thought I asked you to save Jin, and you’re hanging out with your friends instead? Let me tell you something; Devil keeps getting stronger and pretty soon there won’t be a Jin left to save!”

“Hey, hey,” Hwoarang tried to calm her down, slowly climbing to his feet when he saw she wouldn’t attack again. “When I broke outta the army base they wouldn’t just forget I was there. I had to find a place to hide out for a while so they couldn’t find me.”

The fire in Jun’s eyes seemed to flicker and she turned from him, putting her hand to her heart. “The longer you wait… you’re a very frustrating man, Hwoarang. It takes a lot of energy to contact you like this. I have to rest for so long afterwards, and when I wake up I find that you’re still in Korea!”

“This is a lot to absorb. You can’t expect me to just snap my fingers and have Angel come out at my whim, can you?”

“Well… yes, I did! But... I guess you can’t use _everything_ just yet,” she sighed. “The army won’t find you if you go to Yakushima. There is a log cabin in the South where Jin is staying right now. It is hidden so that not even the Mishima Zaibatsu can find it.”

“How’d you know what?”

“It’s where I went to raise Jin once his father had been consumed by the evil inside of him. Believe me, you’ll be safe there. If you want I can keep an eye on your commander back in the army, or just watch to see if they’re sending anybody out to get you, although it’s hard to do when I don’t speak Korean. Maybe I could let you know if anybody is sent to Japan. That way you won’t be distracted, right?” Her eyes narrowed and Hwoarang automatically nodded. Her usual calm demeanour seemed to take a drastic turn in the other direction when she grew anxious about her son.

“Alright… Jun. I have to tie up a few things and then I’ll leave.”

“Today?”

He shrugged, “Why not? My friend just got shot, so it’s a good time, right?”

She turned from him and vanished into his dream world. “The longer you wait, the harder Devil will be to defeat,” her voice echoed in his head.

“I’m the one that’s gonna defeat Kazama,” he vowed. “It doesn’t matter how strong Devil gets, because Kazama is _mine_!” He opened his eyes, waking himself from the dream he’d barely had the chance to start, but already found that he was drenched in sweat. He threw the blankets off his body and checked his watch again. Barely two hours had gone by and he kicked his legs over the edge of the couch and ran a hand through his hair. He needed some air…

+++

The door to the rooftop slammed shut behind him and the Blood Talon hurried to the edge, eager for the gust of wind to rise up from below and hit him in the face. The wind was strong and he closed his eyes, leaning into its caress. He reached for his pack of cigarettes but realized that he’d left them on Moon’s balcony. “Fucking Kazama…” he cursed under his breath. “How the hell am I supposed to do to help him if I can’t even help Hitch?” He balled his fists, flexing his muscles until they started to hurt.

He felt so weak.

The thought of someone else taking over Jin’s body filled him with more anger than he knew he had. That _thing_ was inside him, weakening him. Just like Angel helped Hwoarang to grow, the Devil was tearing Jin down, piece by piece until the man Hwoarang was looking forward to seeing again would be gone and a monster would be left in his place.

Fuck that.

The quiet person whom he’d met during his days hustling street-fights in Korea… the one who proved that he wasn’t as tough as he thought… the one who renewed his resolve to train harder and somehow become a better person would be killed by some… some fucking parasite? A genetic defect from his dad?! It wasn’t even a worthy opponent to lose to! His fists shook as his blood began to churn inside him. The more Hwoarang thought about it, the angrier he became. No, it wasn’t anger; it was rage. Wrath. Blind fury that beat from his heart and through his veins as he clearly saw in his mind’s eye what Jin would become if he kept fucking around in Korea.

“F-f-f-FUCK THAT!” he yelled at the top of his lungs to the night sky in answer to the vision. He hopped up onto the ledge of the roof and began pacing along the parameter of the rooftop. It was dangerous, but he needed Angel’s attention. “Listen up, bitch! I need some fucking help to get real strong real fast! I’m done fucking around!” The moment the words were out of his mouth his vision faltered and she was standing beside him. Well, hovering on the wrong side of the ledge.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” she said with an acrid tone. “Follow me,” and she rose into the sky.

Hwoarang watched her, quickly focusing his energies, feeling the light encompass his body and he leapt into the air to follow Angel, his own white wings carrying him to the heavens.

Sunrise was still a few hours away, but the light pollution from the city lit up his way well enough and he met Angel as she hovered just below the cloud-line. She wordlessly motioned for him to follow and she flew back towards the city at an incredible speed – faster than Hwoarang had been able to fly on his own. She led him between the buildings, as if she were testing his skill with his wings. She led him along the mid-sections of the buildings before quickly veering to one side and then bolting up the side of a building. Hwoarang followed, just trying to keep up before he passed her as she stopped just below the roofline of one building. He soared past her and then angled around to meet her again.

Her eyes were dancing with mirth even though the rest of her expression remained impassive. “Did you want to save Hitch?” she asked without preamble, indicating towards the building. “You could have healed him fully. He wouldn’t be at the hospital right now, but your selfish preoccupation with yourself is what keeps you from being able to help.”

Hwoarang’s eyes followed where she was pointing and was shocked to see that Hitch was on the other side, lying in a hospital bed. He looked at the building and realized that she’d led him to the very hospital that the older man had been taken to. He pressed his hands against the window, peering inside at his friend who was hooked up to several machines and blessedly unconscious. “The hell? I wanted to help him!” he finally exclaimed, turning back to Angel.

“You’ve got to let go,” she said. “You follow Jin because your ego was bruised, and all you can think about is proving to yourself that you’re better than him, even though it doesn’t matter. It’s been like that your whole life. Everything is about you. You have to yell so that everyone knows you’re alive. You want Jin to know you exist, so you keep following him and being a distraction when he needs to focus on Devil!”

Hwoarang didn’t say anything. He was so angry he couldn’t even make a sound. He wasn’t simply a distraction from Devil! He wasn’t! He was more than that!

“If you lower your defenses to someone, you might find that not everyone is out to hurt you. If you let them in, you could heal them in ways that angrily yelling could never do.” Angel lowered her head. “I should trust Jun’s judgment in choosing you… but we’re running out of time. You’re supposed to be helping Jin, but how can you do that when you could barely help your friend?”

Hwoarang shook his head irritably. “Lady, laying the guilt trip on me isn’t the way to do it. I’m gonna help Kazama, so just give me the short version of how to do it and I’ll fucking _do_ it. So what if I’m not like Jun, or whoever else would be better for this. I never said I was, and I didn’t exactly ASK for your fucking powers. But since I’ve got them, I’m gonna use them. I _want_ to help Kazama, damnit. I’ll do it my own way, so just get off my fucking back, alright?”

Angel frowned before smiling mischievously. “Very well, Hwoarang. Although I doubt you’d want me to get off your back at this _exact_ moment.” Hwoarang blinked and she was gone, although he was still high in the air beside Hitch’s window. He looked down to the buildings below him and laughed nervously, remembering her way of forcing his trust.

“Alright, you got my attention. What about telling me some secrets of these powers?” he asked while he flew closer to the window, but she was gone again. “Aw, what the…? Fine, be that way.” He grumbled, playing with the window so he could get through. It had been left open so there were no locks barring his path and within moments he was standing at the foot of Hitch’s bed.

The man was hooked in to a heart monitor that gave a rhythmic, reassuring beep every few seconds and Hitch himself didn’t look too bad, except for the bandages across his chest and around his face. Hwoarang got a feeling that the other man was just barely holding on, although he didn’t know how he knew that. It was just a feeling he had. “Hitch? You awake?” he walked along side his friend and leaned over him, not expecting an answer.

The older man said nothing, only giving a faint snore that made Hwoarang grin. He pushed the blankets down his friend’s torso, revealing the padding that was starting to show red, indicating it was due for a change. The nurse would be by soon and Hwoarang quickly removed the bandages so he could get a look at Hitch’s wounds.

Apart from the fresh stitches, his chest was riddled with scar tissue; some small round marks where he’d been shot before, and one particularly long one running from his right side across his belly and up to his left armpit. Hwoarang absently ran a finger along the scar, stopping just short of touching the fresh stitches that still bled around the edges. “Just missed your heart there, huh?” he said to himself. He’d seen many friends die out in the streets, but Hitch was different. He was a hardened thug, someone who’d gone through the same shit that Hwoarang had, if not more. He wasn’t an innocent kid; not like the kind of friends that Hwoarang had lost in his youth. It would just be a matter of time for Hitch before the bullet didn’t miss. It was depressing to think about, and Hwoarang felt very grateful that he’d met Baek when he had. He realized that it could have been him lying there if things had been different. He quickly pushed such thoughts from his mind and focused on the task at hand.

He lightly rested his finger on the first bullet wound. “Alright, I’m gonna heal you, so you’d better appreciate it,” he whispered, poking the wounds more and trying to focus his energy like he used to form his wings, but nothing happened. “Heh, looks like I gotta try harder,” Hwoarang mumbled under his breath and closed his eyes. He stilled his breathing, thinking about the end result he wanted to accomplish. He wasn’t doing it for himself, and it sure as hell wouldn’t help fluff his ego, but he wouldn’t leave without knowing that Hitch would survive. His heart hurt at the thought of Moon being left on her own with Sun and no brother. That thought left a burning sensation in his chest and he focused on it. It was like fire; an angry out-of-control fire that was burning up his grief at the situation. It was overwhelming and he released a shaky breath as he relaxed and it spread throughout his body; arching down to his belly and even further to the base of his spine before firing down his arm towards his fingertips. He cracked an eye open and was shocked to see that his body was burning with a white fire, glassy and beautiful. It was coloured with a clear red that arched along the flame tips and pooled at his hand where he willed the energy to gather. “Freaky…” Hwoarang mumbled as he instinctively opened his hand and pressed the palm full against Hitch’s chest. A smile played across his mouth and he could feel Angel’s powers coursing through him; separate and yet a part of him. He didn’t have to **_try_** to heal Hitch; it was second nature. He just **_did_** it. He could feel the deep, penetrating wounds close up, the torn edges of flesh knitting together at the surface and then deeper beneath the surface so that when Hwoarang finally let the energy inside him recede, the other man’s wounds had completely mended.

“Woah…” As he drew away from the bed, Hwoarang could swear that he heard a laugh ringing out inside his head… or perhaps it was his heart; it felt weird, and yet confirming. “Heh, I told you I’d do it my way. Have a little faith in me, eh?” He looked back to Hitch who was still sleeping, although he seemed to be more at peace. He could _sense_ it.

Hwoarang scratched out a note for his friend on a napkin on the nightstand. He didn’t have time to wait for the hospital to open up the next day, and he didn’t want any teary goodbyes from the big guy either. He knew he’d get enough from Moon as it was, if not from Doyon. It was a shitty time to leave, but Kazama… he withdrew from Hitch’s bedside and returned to the window. Hitch would live, and though his thoughts were tinged with guilt, his rival remained more important to him than hurt feelings. He knew that Doyon would understand. Eventually.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang must say goodbye to his friends... as hard as it is and inconvenient a time.

Hwoarang arrived back at the Devil’s Cage in a matter of minutes and rushed down to Doyon’s suite.  The blonde drug lord was still awake and sucking on a joint when he answered the door.  “Hwoarang…” he stepped aside to let the Blood Talon in before he closed and locked the door behind him.  “Nice wings.”  He eyed the rest of Hwoarang’s white outfit before walking back to his couch and sat back down.  Mickey and Bloom were nowhere to be seen.

“Hitch is fine, now,” Hwoarang started.  Might as well start with the good news.

“Yeah?” Doyon asked.  “How’d ya know that?” he toked on the joint and looked at the redhead with mild expectation.  He was too stoned to really get upset.

“I flew over to the hospital, broke into his room, and healed him,” he said bluntly.  “He’ll wake up, the doctors will think another miracle has happened, and they’ll probably let him out before the end of the day.  I’m leaving too.”

Doyon nodded mellowly before his eyes flashed recognition.  “You healed him?”

“Yes.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.  It’s a shitty time, but I have a… a friend of mine is in some trouble and I gotta see him.  It’s really important, and since Hitch is fine I gotta go.”

Doyon nodded again, “It sucks, man, but you do what you gotta do.”  He snubbed his joint out in the ashtray and left the roach on the side before eyeing Hwoarang.  “He got anything to do with those… experiments?” he indicated Hwoarang’s wings and the redhead chuckled.

“Umm, yes?”  Might as well go along with it; it was almost the truth, anyways.  “Oh, I also have a favour to ask.”

“You’re killing me.  What is it, asshole?”  Doyon’s expression was still calm and mellow.

“Get Moon a better job?  I’m sure you like her in the casino, but you know how rough it can get, and she’s got a fucking _kid_ , man.”

Doyon glared at him harshly, the strength of the look losing its effect as his eyes began to wander.  “You really shouldn’t butt into her business, ‘Rang.  Moon’s a tough chick, and this charity shit doesn’t suit you.”

“Well,” Hwoarang said, standing.  “Think about it at least.  She’s got that Rora guy hanging off her, and god-knows how many other guys like him.”  The blonde was quiet.

Doyon stared at Hwoarang, or rather past him while he pulled out a smoke and lit it.  He stared intently, his eyes darting from one wing to the other until his cigarette was half-ashed and Hwoarang was feeling rather uncomfortable.

“You a fucking angel trying to save their souls or something, ‘Rang?  Normally I’d keep that bitch working the floor, but it could be the pot or those fucking Green Blades…” he paused before taking another drag.  “I’ll put someone else on Moon’s shift.  Maybe she could… I don’t know.  Whatever.  Consider her soul fucking saved from the evil of me.  Hitch’ll be happy, anyways…”

“Thanks, Doy,” Hwoarang said, feeling a little satisfied at the way things had gone.  “I owe ya one.”

“So we’re even, then?” the blonde got that look that meant he was talking business.

“Not even close,” Hwoarang laughed and reached over to punch his friend in the shoulder.  “You may have paid me back for Ami Yuu, but I still remember Sonya and a few other times when I saved your ass.”

“Bastard,” Doyon shook his head and stood to punch Hwoarang back.  “Ye’ll never let me of the fucking hook, will ya?”

“I can’t.  I’ll probably need another place to crash, jerk.  Quit trying to weasel out of it.”  He made to smack Doyon again, but instead pulled him into a half-hug.  “Thanks, man.”

“Whatever, Gi-Gi.  Get the fuck outta here.  I could be renting that room of yours… and I want my stuff back!” the blonde smacked him before stepping back.  Despite his seemingly harsh words Hwoarang knew that he’d be missed and waved a final goodbye to his friend before closing the door behind him and beginning the short trip to Moon’s apartment.

+++

He didn’t bother to retract his wings before he knocked on her door, and she didn’t seem to notice them when she angrily let him in.

“Where the fuck were you, ‘Rang?  I thought you were going to stay with me!” she paced out to the balcony and left Hwoarang to close the door and follow her out while she lit up a cigarette.  “So…” she angrily sucked in a breath while indicating behind Hwoarang with the glowing smoke.  “What’s up with those things?”

“They’re wings,” he said flatly.

“No shit, I’ve got eyes.  So that’s it?  Nothing more to say about them?  I guess they’re why you took off, then.  You just flew away, like a little bird?”

“Yeah, they work.  Moon, I flew to the hospital to check on Hit.  I...” he tried to think of a concise way to explain what he’d done.  ‘I healed him with my new powers’ was _not_ something he wanted to say, but couldn’t think of any other way to explain what he’d done.  “He’s made a full recovery.  I’m sorry I can’t go there with you to see him, but he’s coming home today or tomorrow.”

“How the hell do you know that, Hwoarang?  Huh?  And what do you mean you can’t go with us?  You promised!”

“I know I did, but something’s come up.  A friend of mine is in some deep shit and I gotta leave to help him out.”

“Really, and what about your friends here?”

“I told you I’ve taken care of it.  You think I _**like**_ leaving like this?  Shit…” Doyon had been easy to deal with.  Hitch would have been easy as well if he’d been coherent, but Moon was the one he felt the guiltiest at leaving.  No, scratch that; Sun was.  Moon would cope with his leaving, if only staying pissed at him for a few weeks before dealing with it.  Sun on the other hand…  “Can I say goodbye to Sun?” he asked suddenly.

“Yeah,” she calmed down a fraction.  “I guess if you’re going to fuck off it’s the only decent thing you could do, right?”

Together they walked down the hall to the boy’s room, but before Moon could open the door, the knob turned from the other side and Sun peered out at them.  “Are you going, Hwo?”

“Yeah,” the redhead scratched the back of his head.  “I have to.”

“I heard you telling mom.  You must really like your friend if you’re leaving to help him.  Is he really in big trouble?”

“Yeah, from what I’ve heard he is.  He could probably handle it on his own, but…” Hwoarang trailed off.  It was like two separate parts of his life were intersecting and he was trying to tell one half about the other.  Sun would probably understand if he had enough time to explain everything that had happened with Jun and Angel.  Moon and Doyon, on the other hand… they were locked into their habits.  They wouldn’t leave their section of the city, unless… he brightened as a thought occurred to him.  “Hey, I tell ya what.  I don’t know how long I’ll be, or if I can come back here, but why don’t you come out to the next King of Iron Fist tournament?  It’s always a good show.”  He reached into his pocket and was glad that the flier had stayed with him despite his Angel clothes.

Sun seemed to cheer up when he saw the paper.  “Really?  That would be so cool!  Mom, could we?  Really?” Sun looked up to Moon whose anger was quickly leaving her in the presence of her son.

“I don’t know how we could afford-”

“I’m sure Doy would give you the money,” Hwoarang winked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Moon said sarcastically.  “That guy is always so generous… alright,” she knelt to look Sun in the eye.  “I’ll see what I can do.  And you,” she said, looking at Hwoarang.  “Don’t think I’m not mad at you anymore!”

“Oh, I’d never be so delusional,” he said dryly.  “But I gotta go.  Watch for me at the tournament, eh?” he asked over his shoulder as he left.  It was as much closure as he could hope for from that part of his life.  He’d probably come back… probably.

Hwoarang stopped by his apartment to gather all the things he’d need together, which wasn’t much.  A few clothes that he knew Doyon wouldn’t miss were stuffed into shoulder bag that he could easily wear while flying.  He then returned to the rooftop.  The sun was starting to brighten the smoggy outline of the sky and he launched himself into the air, his wings taking him upwards with the ease of familiarity and practice.  He was getting the hang of his newfound abilities, which was a relief since he had a feeling he’d need every bit of them when he finally met up with Jin.

Then, with a directional sense built on instinct rather than knowledge of where Yakushima actually was, he flew towards Japan.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang and Jin finally meet up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To write Yakushima properly I did a bit of research on it. It’s quite an amazing place and I’m so glad that I did my homework. I now not only have the goods to make Hwoarang and Jin’s meeting/growth interesting, I also have a fantasy-vacation destination if I ever learned Japanese and wanted to go camping/hiking.
> 
> It pained me to think that Devil had burned out a chunk of it because, fiction or not, the thought is completely unforgivable to me. I mean, this island is covered in 3,000+ year old cedars (sugi) and, despite it being a complete loss to have any of them burned out, I think Devil would be hard pressed to incinerate them so easily in the first place. After talking to my beta, Kat, for a bit, we discovered that Devil only burns “a forest” and then Jin regains control of his body and returns to Yakushima. I was so happy to hear this, so if anyone is wondering about the continuity regarding the burned forest and Yakushima, they’re two separate places. I’d originally made Yakushima the burning forest but quickly changed it. Writing about the skeletons of such strong trees would be too painful ^_^
> 
> I’m taking liberties with insinuating that Sempiro falls feeds Toroki falls. It _might_ be...

Hwoarang had been flying for longer than his attention span could keep track of. He knew he'd left Korea many hours past, and most of those had been spent flying over water. It wasn't until the white-capped ocean was replaced with land that Angel decided to make her presence known.

"I know where I'm going!" he grumbled when he felt her tug his consciousness towards the Southeast corner of the island. He soared over the mountains that were coated with greenery and he could almost feel the life-force of the forest, even from his vantage point in the air.

" _“Stop being so stubborn and just go over here. He’s in this direction._ ”

Hwoarang frowned and tilted his wings to carry him in the direction she indicated. He was going to go to the Southeast anyways, even _before_ she told him where to go.

The scenery changed little as he continued to soar high above Yakushima, eventually seeing the waterline crop up on the horizon and he circled to find a good place to land. The trees were thick and would be very difficult to navigate through to land safely. He observed a long stretch of road that appeared to run along the perimeter of the entire island. The sun was beginning to sink into the horizon and he landed on the road, quickly looking around to make sure he hadn’t been spotted by any of the locals. Angel whispered for him to move quickly and he rushed forward into the greenery of the forest and was swallowed up by the cedars and ferns.

He immediately felt the change in temperature as he ventured further in amongst the trees. It was humid. Not too uncomfortable, but Hwoarang knew that after a few hours in it he’d be complaining. His boot crunched a branch beneath him and he winced at the sound. He’d try to be quieter, but he wasn’t used to having to tiptoe around so many fallen branches and living moss with the soft ground giving way under his white boots.

He stumbled a few times, even with Angel’s urging for him to follow some path that she insisted was there. “ _You must hurry,_ ” Angel piped in when Hwoarang stopped to gather his thoughts for a second. “ _Waiting won’t get you any closer to Jin. Enough time has passed since Jinpachi was awoken and Devil’s strength multiplied,_ ” her tone was accusatory and Hwoarang rolled his eyes, shifting his wings to fold them against his back. They were just getting in the way at the moment.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the guilt trip. You know how much I fucking _love_ those, right? So, Kazama’s in here somewhere?” His thoughts began churning with the fight he’d face when he finally met up with his rival again. Any other man may have begun to question his familiarity with Angel’s powers and perhaps want to train more before engaging Devil in a fight. Of course, Hwoarang wasn’t like other men and his only thought centred on how fast he could kick the fuck out of Devil. A small portion of him was angry that Jin could be overpowered by that creature. He knew Jin was a very strong fighter, which meant he had to be a strong person. While he didn’t know the Japanese fighter all that well, he knew that Jin wasn’t the type to roll over for anybody. Just like him! Devil must really be powerful if Jun and Angel had gone to the trouble of recruiting his sorry ass.

He pushed away from the tree he’d been leaning against, feeling the life-force of the ancient wood clinging to his aura before he moved away and they parted. The longer he spent in the woods, the more acutely aware of the magic he became. It was hard to explain, since he couldn’t really understand it. He could just _feel_ it. The essence of life was permeating the air and was everywhere he looked; the ground, the trees. Even the rocks seemed to possess a soul that brushed against his when he stepped on them. The larger boulders silently ignored him, or encouraged him to continue on deeper into the ancient forest, depending on their mood.

Angel’s spirit mingled with theirs in that vein. “ _You’re on the right path, Hwoarang. You can sense where Jin is, right? You’ll have to be careful… Devil is more powerful now. You should pick your time to challenge him; I’m going to need to stay quiet. That means…_ ” Her tone was expectant, her sentence unfinished and Hwoarang hated being tested like that.

“Don’t start with me, Lady,” he said and concentrated on repressing his angelic features. He had more control over the transformation this time, and the light came and went more rapidly, his wings leaving along with the rest of his white ensemble. He was left in his usual clothes; jeans and a white tank. He suddenly felt the chill and his skin prickled uncomfortably despite the humid atmosphere. He dug into his bag that was still slung over his shoulder and dug a thicker shirt out, quickly pulling it over his head. It wasn’t much, but was better than nothing.

Angel was silent in his mind, and he could feel her digging in deep to hide herself. She wasn’t intruding into his memories, but made herself difficult to find if someone were looking for her. Unfortunately, it would be difficult for her to see what was going on in the real world which meant, in essence, Hwoarang was on his own.

He managed to find his way through the forest well enough without Angel’s instinct guiding him, like she had during his trip from Korea to Yakushima. It was a bit more difficult, but when he found a break in the trees that opened upon a large, powerful river, he picked a direction and followed it. If Jin was living there, he’d need access to water. Logic wasn’t one of his strong suits, but Hwoarang was happy to know that he’d retained some of the training from his time with the military.

He stayed as quiet as he could, keeping to one side of the waterway that seemed to become narrower the further he traveled upstream. It wasn’t until it was several metres across – still more difficult than easy to traverse – when he spotted a building on the side opposite from where he was. As he drew closer, he could see it was a log cabin set against the encroaching forest. The trees were trying to reclaim their fallen brethren, although the clearing between the cabin and river remained clear with some short bamboo grass lining the ground in a pseudo-lawn. Hwoarang climbed down to the river bank, trying to get as close to the cabin as he could when he saw a figure stepping out of the structure.

Even from his vantage point, Hwoarang could see Jin’s features that stood out in sharp contrast against the green background. His black hair was longer than he remembered seeing it at the tournaments and he wore a pair of plain, white training pants. The darker man didn’t notice him at first and walked over to a large boulder that sat at the perimeter of the clearing. The rock was easily the size of an apartment that Hwoarang had lived in years past, and he marveled at how Jin just approached it and began training against it, punching at the weathered stone to strengthen his hits. Since the other man was distracted, all Hwoarang had left to worry about was his approach. He stood and looked down at the rushing current of the river at his feet. It would be difficult to traverse, but he didn’t feel like wandering further upstream to find a bridge, and just because it was difficult didn’t mean it would be impossible…

He stepped into the water, gasping at the chill water that surged around him and he waded in to his waist. Subtlety wasn’t really Hwoarang’s forte, and in the end he figured it would be expected of him to just walk up to Jin and say hello. He was still undetected by Jin as the other man’s back was facing him, but Hwoarang discovered that he had another problem. He’d misjudged the current of the river. On the surface it looked calm, but underneath the riverbed was unstable and the Blood Talon did his best to stay upright, but he slipped on some loose stones and plunged into the rushing, cold water. “Fuck!” he yelled before he was swept along on the current and water filled his mouth.

+++

Jin stepped out of the log cabin, the wooden steps creaking under his weight before his bare feet touched upon the soft moss and grasses that covered the ground. He could sense something strange in the air that day, although he couldn’t put a finger on it. Even Devil, who usually had a comment for everything, was complacent. Still, the sensation was too faint, and after a while it seemed to flicker into oblivion. It was almost familiar, but it had been too faint to identify. He shook his head and looked up through the break in the canopy at the sky; the blues had faded to the dusky reds and oranges of sunset. The was very little light left to be had and he wanted to end the day with some healthy, knuckle-building training. His mother had trained at the boulder at the side of his cabin and the weathered stone was still strong enough to withstand his own training that was wearing a groove into its surface.

He calmed his mind, shutting Devil out and approached the stone, taking his stance before stepping forward and throwing all his force into a punch that resounded throughout the clearing. He stepped back and readied himself for another hit. There was the familiar cry of a monkey that echoed as his fist cracked against the boulder again. Crack, crack, crack, his knuckles were stinging and numb, but it was to be expected for the first few minutes. Afterwards, the numbness would take over. Crack, crack, crack- splash!

“Huh?” Jin stopped and spun around, looking for the source of the sound. There had been lots of rain a few days earlier and the Senpiro falls that fed the river had swollen with the extra water. The stream, which was usually safe to swim in, was flowing too quickly. It was too dangerous. “Hello?” he cried out, catching sight of a flailing arm before it was pulled under the water and a leg flailed about in its place. Someone had fallen in, and it didn’t seem they could right themselves. Jin watched as the body was tossed about on the current before he saw an arm shot out of the water and grab hold of a large boulder that sat at the side of the river.

“Fuck!” he heard a voice exclaim before coughing violently, and his heart skipped a beat as he thought he recognized the voice that uttered the expletive. He sprang forward, coming up beside the boulder. There, clinging to the rock for dear-life was Hwoarang. The Korean street fighter with the nickname Blood Talon was gripping the boulder with white knuckles while he cursed a blue streak.

Jin hesitated to ask if the other man needed help but then shook his head and broke through the string of swearing. “Hwoarang?”

“Ugh, Kazama!” Hwoarang coughed and began pulling himself to the edge of the river.

Jin opened his mouth to say something but stopped and tilted his head to try to watch the drenched redhead as he climbed from the river. The light was fading and it was making it more difficult to see what was going on, although he did hear Hwoarang sputter once or twice, coughing water from his lungs before swearing again.

“ _Little fucker likes to swear, doesn’t he?_ ” Devil observed.

Jin ignored the voice in his head and watched Hwoarang climb to his feet. He wanted to laugh; he’d always seen Hwoarang so proper and tough, and to see him soaked to the bone with his hair sticking flat against his head… he bit back the chuckle that was building in him. “What’s so funny?” Hwoarang asked, his teeth chattering as he drew his arms around his body.

Jin’s mirth turned to sympathy. When the sun wasn’t shining down it could become very cold in Yakushima. It wasn’t even a question in his mind that he’d offer for Hwoarang to stay with him, but Devil’s voice rang in his head, asking what he was doing there in the first place.

“ _Kinda suspicious… I don’t like it. I can almost taste… **her** on him…_ ”

‘ _Quit being paranoid,_ ’ Jin thought, conversing with the beast inside him. ‘ _I’ll take care of him. Just go back to sleep, or something._ ’

“Hwoarang. What are you doing here?” Jin asked, hoping to shut up the creature’s demands.

“Looking for you, Kazama!” the other man said, trying to keep his teeth from chattering while he said it.

“For me?” he rolled the words around in his mind. ‘ _For me…_ ’

“ _Something’s not right! Why would he come all the way out here? Why not wait until the next tournament? Something’s… I don’t like it!!!_ ” Devil’s voice rattled violently in his head and Jin bit his tongue to overwhelm him with pain.

“Yeah, Kazama. You’re a tough guy to find! So, you wanna have our rematch now or…” Hwoarang shivered visibly and his words faltered on his tongue.

“Let’s not fight now,” Jin said, filling the void between them with something constructive. Devil was itching for a fight and he didn’t want that to happen right then – anything but that. “Um, I guess you need a place to stay? I still want to know why you’re here, but first I think you should come back to my place.”

“Naw, I-” Hwoarang began to blow Jin’s invitation off when he stopped and seemed to consider it. “Alright, fine, Kazama. You’re probably right, since I can’t feel my damn fingers anyways.” He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, the bag it was attached to dripped water all over the ground. “Lead the way, will ya?”

Jin nodded and turned to walk back to his cabin. “You’re really lucky,” he said, trying to make conversation. “If you’d become swept away you might have been taken to Toroki falls, and that leads directly into the ocean.” Hwoarang’s chattering teeth was the only reply he got and Jin shut up. He began to mentally rifle through his wardrobe back at the cabin for something the redhead could wear. Night was nearly upon them, and that meant that he’d need something warm to wear and a bed… where would Hwoarang sleep? He thought for a moment, remembering that he had a few spare blankets he could lay out for a makeshift bed. He nodded as they crossed the clearing, content with his plan for his guest – his unexpected, uninvited guest. He felt torn; he was happy to see Hwoarang there, but was worried that he’d become distracted and Devil would take advantage of the opportunity. He’d built his own little sanctuary there and Hwoarang seemed to be the opposite of serene. He didn’t want to lose control of his body in Hwoarang’s presence. As welcome as Hwoarang was to him, he just wanted to be alone…

“ _Go on, push him away. He’s a filthy street rat that got a taste of power – the true power of a GOD – and can’t stay away! Don’t let him in!_ ” Devil’s voice had a lilt of… was it fear?

‘ _What’s the matter?_ ’ Jin asked the dark voice, questioning its tone. ‘ _Does it anger you so much to know that Hwoarang is here for **me** , that he doesn’t even know you **exist**?_ ’ Jin asked the Devil in his mind. It was almost elating to think it. It was something that gave him strength whenever he began to doubt his self-worth. He mattered. Even without the devil gene he still mattered to _one_ other person. It was such a pitiful thing to cling to, but at that moment it held incredible significance to him and he didn’t want to let it go.

He closed the door to the log cabin once they’d walked inside and he turned to his shivering – although he’d never admit it – guest, “I have some clothes you can wear to warm up.” It was a modest cabin with a main area and a couple small doorways off to the rear for storage. It had at one time been where Jun slept, while Jin had slept on his futon in the main living area. When his mother was alive, things had been in proper order. It had felt more like a home; she’d had her bedroom and Jin had his… but now? He couldn’t even bring himself to fix it up to the way things were. He just used the common area, and entered his mother’s old room as little as possible. It would be a bit cramped for two people there, especially since the only bed that was left was Jin’s. That would be a problem unless he could find another option and busied himself with digging some clothes out of his storage chest while thinking of what he could do for the other man. “Here, these should warm you up,” Jin finally said and handed some sweatpants and shirt to the redhead.

Hwoarang quickly peeled off his tank and jeans before accepting them and pulling them on. He was unabashed with exposing himself – or perhaps it was just a need to get warm that overrode any modesty he might have had – although Jin doubted the man was modest at all; from what he knew of him at least.

Hwoarang left his clothes in a soppy heap on the floor and Jin thought nothing of picking them up to hang to dry outside. When he returned from the task, he met Hwoarang’s puzzled stare and he felt himself growing uncomfortable under the penetrating gaze. He stood there for a moment before feeling flustered, “Did you want them to dry or not?” he asked a bit too defensively.

“Hey, thanks, Kazama. You’ll make someone a good, little housewife some day.” Hwoarang laughed and laid back on the futon. Jin’s futon.

Jin stepped up to the bed and stared down at his uninvited guest. “I didn’t say you could sleep on my bed,” his voice was steady, but firm. “What are you doing here?”

Hwoarang rolled over to look him in the eye, “Like I said, Kazama. I’m looking for you.”

“Well,” Jin said, warring with what he wanted and what he knew he needed. “You’ve found me. I’ll take you into town tomorrow so you can go back home. I want to be left alone.”

“Aww, seriously?” Hwoarang sat up and scooted back to get a good look at the darker man. “I thought you’d want some company. I don’t know how you can stand to be by yourself.”

“ _A God doesn’t need company, human!_ ” Devil bit out and Jin shook his head. Not then! He didn’t want Hwoarang to know about Devil. He couldn’t let the other man see him warring with that evil. Hwoarang was his, and he had to get him away from there.

“I’m not really alone, although I don’t think you’d understand.”

“The trees your friends?” Hwoarang grinned.

“What?”

“Are you a tree hugger?” the Blood Talon clarified. “Y’know, hugging the trees, petting the deer – a real nature-boy. I’ve never really cared about trees before, but I have to admit,” Hwoarang’s eyes grew wide as he spoke. “If I was going to like a tree, it’d be from here. The things are _huge_ here!”

“The sugi here are thousands of years old. To appreciate them is to appreciate life itself,” Jin nodded and smiled. If he’d had the luxury of letting Hwoarang stay with him he would have liked to show him around the island. There were a few things that he’d always wanted to share with a friend… he turned away from the redhead and lit a candle that was perched on a table. The dim light cast shadows around the room that had darkened since the sunlight had disappeared from outside.

The Blood Talon remained silent in that light and Jin prepared for bed, gathering some spare blankets from the back room and laying them out on the floor in a makeshift bed. He looked back to Hwoarang who was lying on his back, eyes closed and his breathing light. Jin lightly kicked his leg, waking him. “Your bed is over there.”

“What? Isn’t it rude to make the guest sleep on the shitty bed?”

“You’re an uninvited guest. Be happy I’m letting you stay here at all, and that’s _my_ bed.” Jin prodded the redhead a few more times before the other man rolled off the hard mattress and onto the even harder floor.

"Way to treat a guy. After all the trouble I went through to find you."

The darker man ignored him and climbed into his own bed, pulling the blankets over his back and closing his eyes. Happy that Hwoarang wasn’t saying anything more.

" _If you're not careful, he'll stab you in your sleep. There's something about him that stinks. Some... energy... he'll betray us!_

' _Shut up!_ Jin cursed inwardly. Devil was getting chattier than usual. He'd have to try harder to repress it. _If_ he could... The thought fogged his mind with doubt and dread at the possibility that he could be overpowered by the evil like his father had...

Shivering he wrapped his arms around himself and tried to think of more pleasant things. He stared up into the darkness, listening to the rain as it began pelting the roof with loud pitter-patters and the crash of thunder that sang to his nature with an electric familiarity.

He was still awake hours later, long after Hwoarang's snores had started.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training in the morning is taken to a whole new level when Hwoarang is added to Jin's routine. The two enjoy their warmup and make plans for the day. However, the longer Jin delays in sending Hwoarang away, the more cross Devil becomes...

Hwoarang woke with a start, his body jerking up as a fleeting nightmare yanked him to consciousness. "What the...?" he asked before his question turned to a moan of discomfort. His body was _aching_ and he was so cold he couldn't feel his nose. The sound of rain hitting the roof created a static sound that faded into a calming background noise.

"Good morning!" a voice from within the room greeted. Hwoarang looked to see Jin sitting in front of a table with a bowl of rice. Something smelled good, and it wasn't rice.

"Hey, Kazama," Hwoarang said as he sprang to his feet and rushed to kneel at the table opposite his rival. “What smells so good?” he pulled the bowl away from the other man.

Jin’s eyebrow quirked down and he reached to pull the bowl back. “That would be breakfast; just some vegetables from Onoaida and some fish. I usually don’t eat much before training, so…”

“Kazama, are you crazy?” Hwoarang asked, pulling the bowl back to himself. “It’s raining outside! Storming! You can’t train in that!”

Jin’s eyebrow twitched and he pulled the bowl back more forcefully. “You don’t have to train with me, you know. You should go back to the village… and stop taking my rice, I’ve got some for you too.” He indicated to another bowl that was set aside on the table for the redhead.

Hwoarang pulled the bowl one more time before leaning across to grab his own breakfast. “I’m not going anywhere in this weather. I nearly broke my neck getting here. The trails didn’t look very stable either,” he tucked into his rice, eating as loud as he talked. “I think I’ll stay for a bit, Kazama. I’m not done with you yet. Wanna spar after this?”

Jin inhaled a calming breath before continuing to enjoy his meal. He didn’t reply to Hwoarang right away. The sound of rain filled the empty air between them and the two men ate their meals in silence.

Hwoarang, for once, didn’t feel the need to say anything more although he was still itching to settle the score between him and Jin. Ever since his tie with the other fighter he’d been thinking about it almost obsessively. _He_ didn’t lose to anybody. However, since everything with Jun and Angel had happened, he didn’t feel the drive to fight as strongly. _It wasn’t about him._ Angel had said that to him and he had seen the truth in it. However, Angel wasn’t in his mind anymore, giving him hints of what to do next, and he was on his own and fighting to convince Jin to let him stay. He was falling back into his old habits of itching for a fight. ‘ _Fuck up Devil, then I get Jin. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, ‘Rang. Damnit, I hate training in the rain…_ ’ He looked away from the Japanese man and peered out the window. The sky was still pouring down, the sun barely breaking through the clouds that had formed overhead. It was as if the storm was trying to keep them inside with a crack of thunder following each bolt of lightning that flashed across the sky.

Jin broke the silence. “I really think it would be best if you left, Hwoarang.”

“Don’t worry, Kazama. I’ll leave… eventually,” he added the last bit under his breath before quickly changing the subject. “So do you have any more of this rice? This is good, but I’m a growing man. I need more!” He stood and began poking about in the kitchen area. He could hear Jin behind him let out a frustrated breath, although it was probably just his imagination when he thought he heard the usually stoic man curse. It was so strange to his ears he almost laughed but covered the noise with a cough. He wondered if Angel would care if he took his time with Jin, not that there was anything she could do to stop him now. “Damnit, where’s the food?”

“You can have some more after training,” Jin said, coming up close behind him. Hwoarang held his breath while Jin stood beside him and deposited the used dishes on the hutch before turning and looking expectantly at him.

“What?” Hwoarang asked, suddenly conscious of his thoughts and hoping that Devil couldn’t read his mind.

“You said you wanted to spar with me?” Jin raised his eyebrows, “Let’s go,” he turned to rifle through a chest of drawers and retrieved a couple pairs of training pants. He tossed the blue pair to Hwoarang and turned to pull his own red pair on.

Hwoarang watched as Jin began to change and he turned away to do the same. It sure was cramped in there, but it didn’t seem like Jin minded the close-quarters or even changing clothes in front of him. He himself had spent time in less-comfortable places so he didn’t mind, although he had a feeling that Jun hadn’t lived there while it was in such disrepair. Jin probably had other things on his mind, or… Devil. He immediately changed his train of thought, hoping that Jin or Devil couldn’t sense what he was thinking. He had to build up a bit more trust with his rival before he could even broach the subject.

He pulled the drawstring tight around his waist and lifted the sweatshirt up and over his head – no sense in getting it soaked – dropping it on his bed before turning to face Jin. The other man had already discarded his shirt as well and was walking towards the door, turning to look back at him before continuing through and into the spray of rain.

A devious smirk spread across Hwoarang’s features and he followed with a bounce in his step. Forgetting everything that had happened to him with Angel and Doyon and the damn military, fighting with Jin was something he’d been looking forward to. Obsessing over? Yes, but with good reason! He stepped out into the downpour. The rain felt warm despite the cool air and he felt his body reacting to the upcoming fight. His muscles were tensing up, like a coiled spring ready to go. His blood was rushing through his veins, past his ears and through his heart. He could feel the organ beating in his chest and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensation of his lifeblood being sent out through his body. Since he’d met Angel he’d become more aware of his surroundings, and the feel of his own body. He was aware, but wouldn’t use her powers against Jin… yet!

+++

The rain was falling furiously as Jin stepped out of his home, his Korean rival following behind him. The stream that flowed past the corner of the clearing had swollen larger than it had been the day before. Too dangerous to get close to, but the clearing would do for what he had in mind for Hwoarang. “Are you ready?” he asked, feeling the thrill of the upcoming fight surge through him.

“Kazama, I was born ready,” Hwoarang said behind him. Jin turned to face him and their eyes locked. They were both soaked the moment they’d stepped from the cabin and the redhead looked chilled; his chest was taught and his entire body seemed to be tensed. There was something else about him, though. Jin had always seen him as a reckless aggressor in their fights, but at that moment he seemed more centred. He was less focused on rushing at him to begin the fight and more intent on feeling out the situation before taking action.

That was, at least, what Jin perceived.

The two men stood there in the rain, each thoroughly soaked and chilled, yet neither moved. They each focused their thoughts on the other, completely engaging them in their minds and filling their consciousness with each other’s aura. They weren’t sizing each other up; they were leveling out on the same mental field before making a move.

After a long moment Hwoarang was the first to spring forward, driving towards Jin with the force of a freight-train and Jin only managed to step to the side at the last minute before spinning around to throw out his own attack.

The rain fell into the clearing, running along the mossy ground and adding a brilliant backdrop to the two men who fought with everything they had. Lightning flashed and only heightened the appearance of their speed. Jin lashed out with a vicious axe-kick and Hwoarang blocked before matching the kick in height and force. Their bodies lashed out like striking cobras, aiming for the vital spots on the other’s body before their limbs were blocked or kicked out of the way.

There were no pulled punches or weak attacks. Nothing to suggest that either thought the other was weak or unable to properly block any attack that was sent out. It was more intense than any encounter they’d had before, and Jin’s heart twitched to realize that he’d been looking forward to it almost as much as Hwoarang probably had. It was his fight, and he didn’t care if Devil wanted Hwoarang gone. He was in charge of his body and at that moment he’d enjoy the other man.

The lightning flashed and he matched its attack, showing Hwoarang how he’d earned the title Fatal Lightning. His fist connected with the redhead’s chest and knocked him back. He followed through with a kick to his solar plexus, but Hwoarang punched his foot out of the way and came at him with his own stunning flurry of kicks. Jin was knocked back and only managed to catch himself before he fell to the ground, quickly moving out of the way of Hwoarang’s follow-up attack.

The two men paused, each breathing heavily, yet keeping their guards up as they regarded each other from a little more than a metre away. Jin could see Hwoarang’s eyes burning with determination, those glowing brown orbs that were so intent and focused on him that he felt weak in the knees. _It was a look just for him._

The exhaustion he’d felt creeping up on him was replaced with a feeling of elation. Devil was wrong, Hwoarang was there for _him_.

“You gonna look at me all lovey-dovey all day, Kazama, or are we gonna finish this fight?”

“I thought we were sparring,” Jin said, being sure to keep his voice neutral like always.

“Sparring, fighting. Same thing, right? Let’s get going, I wanna finish kicking your ass so I can get out of this fucking rain!” He bounced on the balls of his feet and sunk into the mud a little.

Jin grinned and abandoned all happy thoughts of Hwoarang to focus on the fight. The pause between them was much shorter this time as Jin was the first to rush against his opponent, punching out towards Hwoarang’s face and managing to connect once before he changed his tactics and skipped around to his side and narrowly avoided one of the Korean’s powerful kicks. He lashed out with another attack and knocked Hwoarang’s foot out from under him, toppling the other man over into the mud. Jin leapt on top of him, bringing the redhead’s arm around for a submission move, but he was flipped off at the last moment and found that he was pinned beneath Hwoarang’s body instead.

“Almost had me there, Kazama,” he laughed and pressed his weight down onto Jin’s chest.

Jin didn’t recognize the position Hwoarang had taken and figured that he wasn’t trying for a submission from him and was just trying to hold him down. He twisted one way before managing to kick his leg out and twist his hips around, knocking Hwoarang off-balance and he tumbled off of Jin’s body.

Jin struggled to climb to his feet, but the mud was sucking at him as he tried to lift himself free of its wet embrace. He was so tired.

“Damnit, Kazama!” Hwoarang yelled, although he didn’t have any better luck in trying to climb out of the sucking mud. He coughed as he struggled against the muck that held him fast.

After a few minutes both men gave up and lay there, half-submerged in the ground.

“Is this another fucking draw?” Hwoarang asked after a long moment.

“I think so,” Jin said, happier than he should have been at the discovery.

“I’ll get you next time,” Hwoarang breathlessly promised before cursing the rain again. The storm was starting to lighten up and they lied there as the clouds drifted above and took the rain with them.

The sky was still grey and bleak when they’d recovered their strength and managed to pull themselves free of the mud and returned to the cabin to warm up. Jin lit the gas stove in the room and they huddled around it, close to one another without actually touching.

“I hope I don’t get sick, Kazama,” Hwoarang coughed to emphasize his point.

Jin lifted a kettle from the stove and poured two cups of tea. Hwoarang accepted the mug and drank it quickly, getting another cup for himself while Jin savored the taste of his first. He held it in muddy hands, letting the heat of the liquid warm his fingers before he raised the rim to his lips and swallowed a gulp of tea to warm his insides as well. He’d gotten a better workout that morning than he could have by training on his own. At some points in their fight he’d been afraid that Devil would emerge, but he was grateful that the beast had stayed in its place. He knew it was a tentative agreement with the evil inside him that he hadn’t exposed that part of himself to Hwoarang. As much as he was enjoying the company, he’d have to part ways with the redhead. Devil had been passive, with only a snide remark here or there. He probably wasn’t in the mood to try and take over Jin’s body so the brunette decided that it would be alright to drop his guard a fraction and interact with the man who’d tracked him down. He still felt that fluttering of happiness at the knowledge of that fact alone.

“So,” Jin started, feeling a bit anxious for no reason. “Are you feeling warmer?”

“ _Lame!_ ” Devil commented.

“I always like to go to the hot spring after training, well… when I can. I was thinking if you’d like to… that is…” it was always so much easier to just blow Hwoarang off than start a conversation with him.

“ _What makes you think he’d want to spend time with you? He’s only here for his fight!_ ” Jin’s smile faltered at Devil’s words. It was true. Hwoarang had only ever wanted his fight. Their match that day had been another draw, so the redhead wouldn’t leave right away, but why should he spend any other time with him.

He stuttered to retract the invitation. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t assume-”

“The fuck you apologizing for?” Hwoarang said, swallowing the last of his tea. “You don’t give a guy the chance to answer before you’re backing down. Yeah, that sounds good. I’d love to go. Let me get this shit off me and I’m there.” His voice was thick and gravelly like it usually was, and his accent lilted the word ‘love’ to sound strange. It snagged on Jin’s mind and he replayed it in his memory a few times. Had he ever heard Hwoarang use it? Maybe it was just Jin, but he’d never heard the word cross the other man’s lips. He felt his imagination beginning to spiral downwards as he over-thought the idea, wondering if Hwoarang really loved anything at all.

He loved his mother, Jun. Did Hwoarang have a mother? Did he have a family?

“ _Ohhh, Jin. Don’t tell me you want Hwoarang to tell you he loves you. I’ll break you both in half before that-_ ”

‘ _Will you just shut up? I only wondered what his mom was like. Leave me alone and I’ll get rid of him soon._ ’

“ _Don’t get so greedy, boy. Just because he wants to fight you doesn’t mean he loves you. Ha! He’ll never even **like** you more than as an opponent. How could he? The moment it happens I’ll snap that pretty neck of his, or maybe I could even do something worse if it’s love on your mind…_ ” A tinge of dread washed over Jin then and he stayed frozen in place in front of the stove, even as Hwoarang climbed to his feet, oblivious of the conversation taking place in Jin’s mind.

‘ _No, you wouldn’t..._ ’ but even as Jin asked Devil to stop, he saw flashes of the creature’s imagination. Fantasies of what he would use Jin’s body to do to Hwoarang. The JACKs that had attacked him before would be nothing in comparison. ‘ _Stop, damnit!_ ’ Jin bellowed inside his mind.

“You okay, Kazama?” Jin opened his eyes to see Hwoarang leaning down towards him.

“Y-yes, I’m fine. Let’s go!” he hoped that the conversation had been completely internal and that he hadn’t said anything aloud. Hwoarang was looking at him oddly, but that look only lasted a minute before they were ready for the hot spring and walking along the paths to the main trail. It would be so easy to tell him the truth. Just open up and let him know that Devil wanted him dead and that he needed to leave. Devil was churning within him and he felt himself losing grip on himself as he tried to control it. Hwoarang’s presence was very welcome, although at the same time it wasn’t. Still, Jin held his tongue. He couldn’t bear to lose the connection he felt with the other man. He was someone who was completely set apart from the Mishima family troubles and the genetic curse he’d inherited from his father. The simplistic acquaintance built on that stupid fight was something he hadn’t asked for, but found himself looking toward for strength during moments of weakness. The way that Hwoarang looked at him – with the simple regard for another human being – was just too important to him to ruin with things like the truth. He’d leave the other man in the dark and push him away before Devil got too impatient. The creature of darkness didn’t say anything else as they made their way down the trail, but his presence was felt in subtle ways; a flash of pain here, an image in his mind there. Jin was his usual, quiet self just trying to repress Devil while Hwoarang seemed to be enjoying the silence, blissfully unaware of anything that was going on.

He only hoped he could keep it that way.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin takes Hwoarang into Onoaida to visit the hotspring (onsen) and get something to eat. There, Hwoarang meets some of the more colourful people that Jin knows and discovers why his rival is truly such a quiet person.

The main trail wasn’t very far from Jin’s home, and they quickly found their way to the road just outside of the town of Onoaida. The walk was pleasant and Jin was happy to have quieted Devil down by the time they walked into the tiny building put up by the people who managed that part of the springs. A kindly middle-aged woman smiled at them from behind the counter. “Jin! Hello! Hello!” She said cheerily. “The moment the rain leaves you want to spend some time in the water? You boys must really like to be wet!”

“The hell?” Hwoarang mumbled under his breath, and Jin elbowed him in the ribs before the woman could hear.

“Yes, I was hoping we could spend some time in one of the pools, if that’s alright, Inoue,” Jin addressed her warmly and with all the respect his mother had used with the woman.

“Sure, sure. Inside or outside? With the rain you could only stay inside, but now that it’s stopped… do you boys really want to stare at a grey sky, though? Nobody else is here now, so you can use one of the private indoor rooms. I know how much you like your privacy, Jinny!”

Hwoarang chuckled and Jin shuddered at the name. “Yes, that would be great. Thank you.” She waved away the money he tried to hand her and he bowed. “Thank you, Inoue.” She never accepted his money whenever he went. He felt like he was somehow taking advantage of her generosity, but she just _wouldn’t_ let him pay.

She led them to a small shower where they could clean up before going to their room. She took their gi pants from them, laughing at how muddy they were and promised to send them out for cleaning. Jin tried to tell her it wouldn’t be necessary, but she was gone before he could tell her so.

“This is a pretty sweet place, Kazama, or should I say, Jinny?” Hwoarang said, laughing as he showered the mud from his body. “Private rooms and you don’t have to pay… I shoulda come to find you sooner!”

“Don’t call me Jinny,” the darker man said, keeping his eyes front and centre as he washed himself under the spray of the showerhead. The spray was nice and warm, fed from the same water that was found in the springs. He’d visited that spot so many times, but with Hwoarang standing at the shower beside him, it somehow felt strange and foreign. He glanced sideways at the Korean who seemed to unabashedly revel in the water, running his hands along his lean, muscular torso. He caught his eyes wandering lower and he quickly turned his attention back to the tile in front of him. He didn’t know why he felt so shy all of the sudden, but it was probably the fact that Hwoarang was so brash and loud to actually call him out on his wandering eyes. The last thing Jin wanted was Hwoarang accusing him of being a pervert… it would almost be worse than him finding out about Devil. He shook his head and stepped away from the shower spray. Inoue had left them with towels and he quickly wrapped the large, white terrycloth around his waist. He waited for Hwoarang to wrap his own blue towel around his waist before leading the way from the showers down an open-air corridor to a door that was separate from the rest. It opened out to a room that was little more than a few flimsy walls and a roof covering a large hole in the rocky ground. The hole was full of water that steamed and swirled, filling the room with the smell of sulphur.

“Ohhh yeah!” Hwoarang exclaimed and ripped his towel off before jumping into the pool.

Jin watched the Korean’s bare ass as he jumped into the water with a splash before climbing in properly, removing his towel before quickly sliding into the warm liquid. For a moment his worries melted away as he immersed himself in the steaming sulfuric waters that seemed to instantly reinvigorate his body. He settled into a seat in the rock, letting out a sigh as he tilted his head back. It really had been too long. He closed his eyes. Bliss.

“So, Kazama, what do we do in this place?” Hwoarang couldn’t stay quiet for longer than half an hour before he was fidgeting again.

“We relax,” Jin said, keeping his eyes closed, although his eyebrow twitched at the question.

“So where are we going after this?” Hwoarang asked, obviously not happy with the answer. “I’m hungry. Is there a place in town that we can get something to eat?”

“Hwoarang,” Jin said tiredly, not bothering to look at the other man. He was beginning to regret having taken him to the hot spring. He was letting himself get distracted and enjoying himself when he should have been taking Hwoarang to the airport and getting him AWAY from there. Devil wouldn’t stay quiet for too long. “We’ve only been here for 20 minutes. Can’t you just relax and enjoy this? People come from all over just to do this!”

“Well, now that I’ve done it I’m bored,” Hwoarang almost whined, kicking his foot out to poke Jin’s leg with his toe.

“Fine, we’ll get something to eat in a little while. Just let _me_ relax a bit longer?” He didn’t bother opening his eyes to see Hwoarang’s answer. He took the redhead’s grunt as assent. So the hot springs and lunch and _then_ he’d take Hwoarang to the airport. He cracked his eyes open to look at the Korean who was sitting across from him. What could be the harm in letting him stay a bit longer?

“ _If that **disturbance** doesn’t leave soon, I’ll break him in half,_ ” Devil warned in a booming voice.

Jin was startled by the force behind the words and shot forward from his perch in the water. “Shit,” he muttered.

Hwoarang’s voice broke in on the inner conversation. “Holy crap, Kazama, you can swear? Guess you’re not the boring, uptight guy I pegged you for, eh?” He reached out to punch Jin in the arm, although the contact only infuriated Devil more.

“Sorry,” Jin said, grimacing and doing his best to get Devil to shove off. He could feel the darkness inside him staying low, there was no threat of Devil forcing his way out, but the snide remarks could be unnerving. He knew he was pushing things by taking Hwoarang out to see a bit of Onoaida, but it wasn’t as if he was inviting the man to live with him. No, one day of fun and then that was it. ‘ _Just one more day!_ ’ he firmly told Devil, ‘ _I’ll make sure he leaves, but give me this day._ ’ He waited for the rebuttal but was surprised to feel Devil quieting within his mind. He took the beast’s silence as agreeance and relaxed, a smile brightening his face when he looked over at his bored guest. He was starting to feel a little restless himself and an idea sprang to mind. He reached out to poke Hwoarang with his toe. “Let’s get something to eat. I know this place…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Hwoarang said, climbing out of the tub and quickly retrieving his towel. “Let’s go. I’ll find out when I get there!”

Jin climbed out as well with a bounce in his step and wrapped his towel around himself. He had the day to enjoy himself and he already felt giddy at the thought. Hopefully Devil wouldn’t make him pay for it later. He hoped the beast would give him that much.

+++

Hwoarang didn’t realize it until they’d left the springs and had begun walking up the street, but he really did feel rejuvenated after sitting in that pool of water. He’d have to go back to that place later. Jin seemed to be happier once they’d left and he pounced on that good humour when he realized that Jin wasn’t ignoring him and was actually listening to what he was saying. He couldn’t help it; he just felt like talking to Jin, filling the air between them with as many words as he could, most of them open-ended questions to get Jin to talk. After bit of time describing his elaborate escape from the military and a few adventures after shacking up with Doyon – all angelic references removed, of course – he asked Jin a few questions. He’d never really gotten to converse with the other man, so he’d saved up a pile of really good questions that he’d always wanted to know. Since they weren’t fighting, it seemed safe to ask him about the basics; Yakushima, how he knew all the people, if he planned on living there forever, things that seemed like proper conversation although he couldn’t help slipping a few aggressive jabs at him regarding their rematch. It had been the sole thing drawing him towards Jin, and it was starting to feel like it was slipping away from him. His purpose had been to prove he was better. He was, wasn’t he? He shook his head and bit his cheek to let physical pain blot out his wandering mind. He was there for Jin, first to help and then to kick his ass. In that order! He wouldn’t let any feelings of brotherhood or friendship leak in there. They were just too different to get along on any other level…

…and yet he found himself wishing otherwise. Jin wasn’t of his ilk, and yet he didn’t look down on him as some filthy street rat. He bit his cheek again.

Jin led him past many cozy store fronts, bypassing some of the alleys in favour of a spot that was promised to be really good. “My, ah, mother’s friend owns this little place that is really good.”

“Mother’s friend? Does that mean it’ll be free?” Hwoarang leaned into Jin.

“N-no! Well, probably, but that’s not why we’re going there!” Jin became flustered and shoved Hwoarang back. The Korean laughed and shoved back.

“Don’t start with me. I’m still itching for my rematch…” he shoved back and this time Jin stepped out of the way, causing Hwoarang to lose his balance and fall over.

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Jin enjoyed seeing the redhead picking himself up from the ground. “I knew there was a reason you kept following me around.”

“Well, it ain’t cuz you’re cute, Kazama,” Hwoarang spat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t fuck with me. The next time I push you, take the hit like a man instead of side-stepping like a girl.” He shoved Jin again.

They continued up the street like that, earning them a few queer looks until Jin stopped in front of a sunny little shop. “This is it,” he said and led the way inside. The restaurant was set apart from the rest of the low buildings and Jin strode purposefully towards a table that overlooked the beach. They both settled into their seats and immediately a young girl appeared beside them.

“Welcome to the Yamada Sky Cafe!” she chirped, a warm smile spread across her face and she tilted her head to the side. “Jin Kazama? Oh, I’m so glad you came! You look fresh so you must have visited Inoue at the onsen! I’d better feed you good, then. Mother said that you haven’t been by the market to buy more food so I should remind you to visit her and the next time I see you that I should feed you really well, so I’m going to have to cook you my extra-special noodles! But,” her smile dropped as she took her first breath after talking a mile-a-minute. She raised a finger to her chin in thought. “Noodles aren’t enough, so I think I’ll add some of my secret egg sauce and… eel!” she clapped her hands together as if that was final and she turned towards Hwoarang. Her eyes became very wide as she peered at him closely. “And, ah, your friend? What would you like?” she snapped back upright, a grin on her face as if she’d had the most brilliant idea. “I know!” she gestured, poking a finger up in the air. “I’ll make you my seaweed surprise with my extra-special noodles.” With that she turned on her heel, keeping her finger raised as she marched off to the kitchen.

Hwoarang watched her go with wide eyes before looking back at Jin for an explanation.

The brunette shrugged sheepishly, “The food’s really good,” he assured Hwoarang when it was obvious the redhead was about to leave.

“The hell was that?” he whispered harshly. “Seaweed surprise? I wanted beef! Lots of meat and veggies!” He waved his arms about to make his point. “Can’t I at least get a beer?” he asked before sitting back and sulking.

“You’ll like it!” Jin laughed as the girl returned with two glasses of tea. “Nana, can my friend have a beer too?” he quietly asked. She laughed and nodded, pulling a bottle of cold beer out from behind her.

“I knew he’d want this!” she set the bottle down with a thunk. “I just knew it, so I thought I’d surprise you… surprise!” she shouted before suddenly becoming very serious and turning back to the kitchen.

“Now I know why you’re so fucking quiet, Kazama,” Hwoarang muttered before lifting the bottle to his lips.

The food arrived quickly, both plates containing unidentifiable creations that looked both appealing and revolting at the same time. Hwoarang had eaten Japanese food before, but this wasn’t anything he’d ever seen before. It was as if the girl had grabbed random ingredients, mixed them together and then slathered them with some strange yellow sauce. Well, Jin had the yellow sauce, he had a strange lime-green concoction that bathed his noodles. Without a word, Jin grabbed his chopsticks and tucked into his dish, separating some pieces of vegetable from the fray and picking them up in one swift movement. Hwoarang looked to his plate and hesitatingly put the tips of his chopsticks into the mixture. He fancied that he saw it move, but twirled some long strands of noodles around the wooden utensils and lifted the wriggling mass to his mouth. He tipped his tongue out to taste it before making a noise of pleasant surprise and popping the food into his mouth. “Damn!” he exclaimed as he reached back for more.

Aside from grunts of enjoyment from Hwoarang, the two fighters ate in amiable silence. The sounds of the sea drifted up to them adding to the ambiance which was tinted to a modern feel by some retro rock music that filtered through a little radio tucked into the corner of the room. It was becoming a pleasant day as the sun finally appeared and it wasn’t long before Hwoarang let out a satisfied sigh and pushed his plate away from him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten so well. After living for a week on the garbage that Doyon called food, he was happy to be able to eat some real food, even with a name like ‘seaweed surprise’.

“That was great! Thank you!” he told the young girl who came to collect his plate, a little more enthusiastic than he’d meant, but he enjoyed the twitch it triggered in Jin’s eyebrow. He looked over at his rival that sat across from him, moving his noodles around on his plate without actually eating anything. Jin had been jovial between the hot spring and the restaurant, but it seemed that the silence had made him withdraw into his shell.

‘ _What’s wrong with him?_ ’ he wondered before he almost smacked himself in the head for not realizing the obvious. ‘ _It’s probably that fucking Devil,_ ’ he thought, a surge of jealousy coursing through him. Jin had always been quiet, but right then he was bordering on comatose for conversational abilities. He didn’t even notice when Hwoarang reached across the table to steal one of the shrimps that were moved to the side of his plate. “Hey, Kazama! If you don’t eat you’ll get weak, and our next fight won’t be a tie!” He made a show of dropping the crustacean in his mouth and chewing loudly. When that didn’t get a reaction he reached across to shake Jin’s arm, earning him a flinch as the Japanese man reacted to his touch. “What’s the matter with you? All this good living wearing you down?”

“It’s not that, Hwoarang,” Jin said, pushing his plate away from him and looking directly into the redhead’s eyes. Those dark orbs were hard, unyielding, and closed off. Hwoarang felt a stab of worry stab through his belly, and he didn’t know if it was him or Angel that had felt it. He could only guess as to the conversation that Jin was having with Devil at that moment. “We should get going,” Jin said after a long pause. “It’s getting late.”

Hwoarang wondered what was going on in his head. He would have preferred an air of annoyance like he usually got, or even anger. Anything that showed emotion instead of the cold wall he’d suddenly put up. Maybe he was pushing things too far. He nodded without a word, biting his tongue from the snide comments he’d usually have for Jin as they left, or even the random observations he had about the island as they returned to the forest path. It really was beautiful. Had he told Jin that yet? Then wasn’t the time. He began to think back to what Angel had said to him.

 _”You have to yell so that everyone knows you’re alive.”_ Why did she have to be the one to say it? He was an attention whore, sure. He liked Yakushima, but couldn’t live there forever by himself without anybody around. He _needed_ to interact with people, to hear them say his name and know that he mattered to someone else.

Not like Jin did… The other fighter pushed everyone away from him. He could live on his own, without his name crossing another person’s lips and it wouldn’t matter to him.

Of course, Hwoarang thought further, if he stayed there with Jin, knowing he had the other man’s attention, Jin’s _acknowledgement_ of him, could he do it? Did the hollow praise he received from strangers at his competitions compare to the tilt of Jin’s head when they met at a tournament? Did it match the spark of life he saw shoot into the other man’s eyes when they stood off against each other? He brought a reaction to the surface of the other man, and it sustained him far more than the roar of a crowd ever could. _”You want Jin to know you exist, so you keep following him and being a distraction when he needs to focus on Devil!”_ It was true; Jin knew he existed, and for him, Jin had become the centre of his focus. He _needed_ Jin. He may have been a distraction, but would it have been better if he wasn’t there at all and all Jin had to think about was that creature inside his head; the only being to say his name?

Hwoarang shook his head. He was thinking too deeply about matters. His sudden realization of just how deeply Jin mattered to him left its mark deep in his heart. If he were to leave tomorrow he’d mourn the loss of contact with Jin, almost as strongly as he’d mourned Baek’s loss when he’d thought his mentor had been murdered.

 _Murdered…_ If he left would Devil murder Jin – the Jin he knew?

“We’re here,” the brunette said, completely unaware of Hwoarang’s train of thought as he pushed some brush away to reveal the clearing of his home.

The redhead nodded and walked on without saying a word as Jin led him into the cabin. His reasons for being there were far beyond his promise to Jun – he knew that now. Her proposal had been the trigger that had put him in motion. The knowledge of Devil had moved him to action, but if someone else had told him of Jin’s trouble, would he have reacted in the same way? If he were to be honest with himself, he knew that, inside, he’d have felt just as jealous and affronted as when Jun had told him. The only one worthy of Jin was him!

His thoughts followed the same pattern as he lied there in the dark on his makeshift bed until he finally drifted off to sleep. His dreams were fraught with the upcoming battle that he could sense looming. Angel flickered through his conscious, although the fight was a blur in his mind, he could feel her power coming to him with more and more ease. He was dimly aware of his physical body twitching every so often whenever he threw out a dream-kick, but he remained asleep, his focus remaining on Jin.

+++

Though Jin slept, Devil was conscious within his mind. A god-being rarely slept and he entertained himself with rifling through Jin’s dreams. The Japanese man’s mind was a whirl of worry that manifested in dark and ethereal dreams. Devil chuckled as he probed into the imagery to twist it to his liking. He’d been told in the hot springs to behave and give Jin the day, but he’d changed his mind when he’d seen Jin enjoying Hwoarang too much. Jin wasn’t allowed to enjoy anybody! Jin was _his_! Not some filthy Korean’s but his! He’d been fuming since Hwoarang had arrived – the perfect distraction for Jin – an annoyance of a man who only cared about his stupid rematch. Devil knew that wasn’t the case, but hadn’t been able to figure it out. It wasn’t until then when Hwoarang slumbered that he realized the truth. One moment he was plotting his revenge on Jin for letting the outsider stay for so long, and the next he was sent reeling as his conscious was pierced with a painfully blinding white light. He couldn’t see through Jin’s eyes, which were closed to dreams, but he didn’t need to. He recognized _her_ energy the moment he felt it. The same flash of power he’d felt flare up before Hwoarang had appeared was there, beside his host, in the body of the thug that kept following him around. He grit his teeth, barely repressing a chuckle of anticipation. Jin wouldn’t be able to stop him from ripping Hwoarang apart in the morning. He’d do it slowly, drawing out the suffering for both men as Jin’s body was used to mutilate and then murder the one that he treasured as _his_ chosen opponent. So Angel had somehow convinced that filthy street rat to act as a host for her power to _save_ Jin? It was the biggest miss-match he’d ever seen! He doubted the other man even had an idea of how to properly use her power, whereas all he had to do was push Jin’s consciousness to the side and he had full control. He laughed menacingly, the noise rippling throughout Jin’s conscious and tingeing his dreams with black promise of things to come.

Soon enough there wouldn’t be anybody left that even remembered Jin before him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Devil has just figured out the true reason for Hwoarang's presence there and he's had enough. Things are beginning to unravel for Jin and he's at the end of his rope with asking Hwoarang to leave him alone. Unfortunately for him, Hwoarang isn't the type to leave so easily.

Jin woke feeling as if he hadn’t slept at all. Although he was in the comfort of his home, wrapped up in blankets to protect him from the chilly morning air, the beast that lurked within his conscious had been pacing all night, keeping his mind from peaceful dreams and any sort of restful sleep.

“ _Wakey, wakey, **Kazama** ,_” Devil purred in his mind, mocking the name that Hwoarang used to address him.

Jin looked over at Hwoarang, noting how the other man appeared to still be asleep and he quickly rose to address Devil properly. He threw on some loose training pants and shirt and hurried outside to begin his usual argument with the beast. “What are you up so early for?” he asked, keeping his footsteps steady as he walked out to the stream. He followed its course upstream through the woods towards one of the lesser waterfalls that were fed from Sempiro Falls. It wasn’t accessible to tourists and Jin instinctively knew that he’d need to meditate to get Devil under control that morning.

“ _You promised you’d make that disturbance leave today. Have you forgotten?_ ” He sounded more aggressive than usual… agitated over something.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Jin said, deciding not to rise to the baiting tone of his voice. He sat down on one of the boulders that overlooked the base of the flowing falls. He closed his eyes and focused on meditating.

“ _You don’t **look** like you’re making him leave!_ ” Devil interrupted him.

“Damn,” Jin cursed, shaking his head and starting over. If he’d slept properly he’d be strong enough to enter a state that Devil couldn’t affect. “What do you want? Just leave me alone, I’ll take him back later today.”

“ _Later will be too late, **Kazama** ,_” the beast threatened, more brazen than usual. “ _By then your precious little **chosen one** will be dead… and I’ll have used **your** body to do it!_ ”

That promise snapped Jin to attention. “I _told_ you I’d handle it, Demon!” Why was Devil being so aggressive that morning? He could feel the creature pacing within his mind with renewed strength and he didn’t understand it. What had happened between the previous day and that morning?

Devil growled, the monstrous sound fierce in Jin’s ears. “ _If you want that pretty little thing to live to see tomorrow, you’ll do something about it **now**. If you don’t, you **know** what I wouldn’t mind doing with him…_ ”

Jin bowed his head as the words resounded in his mind. Not even awake for an hour and Devil was making threats. His quiet place by the falls wasn’t having the calming effect as it usually did. He wasn’t able to relax his mind enough to enter a protective state that the darkness couldn’t penetrate. Devil was always there with his foot in the door, making sure he was always a shadow looming over Jin and never letting the man have a moment of peaceful thought.

“ _Sitting on this rock isn’t going to make me happy, **Kazama** …_”

“Just give me a minute,” he muttered, furrowing his brow in concentration and filling his senses with the aura of the forest. “You barely let me sleep, just let me rest for a moment.” It was a dangerous gamble to try negotiating with the demon when it was so strong and he was so weak. Still, he wouldn’t let himself lose control in front of Hwoarang. Not in front of him.

Devil growled a threat, but Jin was already digging his way into that elusive meditative state. Instead of resisting the overpowering voice in his mind, he let it roll over him and pretty soon it became a muffled boom, like thunder echoing in his mind. The thunder meshed with the rumbling of the waterfall that had, until that point, been mute to Devil’s power and Jin was able to enter a restful state that coexisted with his darker half.

His mind was a twisted mix of black and white, neither colour mixing together to form a palatable grey coexistence. He’d always been at odds, it was common for him. He sat back and let the colours wrestle together, just a casual observer of his own inner psyche. Black overwhelmed white which in turn pushed its way through the middle of the dark colour and flooded Jin’s vision with bright light before blackness moved the same way and blotted white from his vision. He’d seen the fight a few times before, although this time it was more disturbing with the roaring thunder in his ears. It was like a sandstorm of emotion and he was the only solid part of it, his devil half twisting around him as it chased and was chased by the white goodness that he fought to keep strong inside him. It was dizzying and timeless and before he knew it his eyes had closed and the battle was happening with a dream that seemed to take on various familiar shapes and forms.

An hour later Jin awoke, still with Devil in his mind, but feeling strong enough to face Hwoarang. He couldn’t remember the victor of the colour battle, though it didn’t really matter. He was still in control of his body and he’d keep it that way until Hwoarang finally left. No matter what that incorrigible redhead said, he’d push him away. Devil wouldn’t wait any longer.

+++

“I told ya, Kazama, I’m not ready to leave yet,” Hwoarang frowned as he poked the skillet of fish on the stove. The meat sizzled in its juices and filled the cabin with the delicious smell. He’d woken to see that Jin had left and, being hungry _and_ resourceful, he’d gone fishing for breakfast. “I even caught you something to eat too, so the least you could do is thank me and eat your damn fish.” He turned back to the stove, leaving the Japanese standing in the doorway to try and figure out what was going on. He was sure Jin didn’t think he could cook. He did little to hide his smug, little smile as he poked the simmering meat.

He could feel Jin’s presence looming in the doorway, but he chose to ignore the dark feeling he got from the other man. He was going to play oblivious a while longer and stepped away from his skillet to digging through the cupboards himself to find something else to add to the meal. Moments later he pulled his head from the storage, a frown fixed to his face as he looked down at the small box of rice and a few spices he’d found. “Damn, looks like we’ll have to go to the store today, eh?” he dug out a pot and turned to Jin. “Want to get the water, or should I do it?” He didn't wait for a response and walked up to the Japanese man. "You've been out all morning and it's my turn to get some fresh air." He walked by and out the door, leaving Jin to make sure the fish didn’t burn.

Hwoarang didn’t spend too long outside and was right back beside Jin moments later and the two prepared breakfast in silence. Hwoarang knew how to cook a fish, but Jin knew how to mix the rice and spice to make something from practically nothing. Together they made enough to keep them going for most of the day. They ate in silence, although Hwoarang didn’t miss the little frown Jin would get, or the way the other man seemed to zone out and stop eating. He tried to ignore it, but it was obvious something (or someone) was on Jin’s mind. He chewed his food, fighting back the scowl at the thought of what was happening no-more than a metre from him. He watched Jin, feeling the other man’s presence darkening and he frowned. Was it time to make his move? Was it too soon? His mind swirled with sudden anticipation. He could come out and tell Jin what was going on… but that wouldn’t work. Angel had said she didn’t want Devil to be aware of her… and blowing her cover would probably piss her off, and Hwoarang didn’t want that headache. He’d have to wait for his opportunity. He hated waiting, oh god did he hate it, but he’d do it. He sound of a plate clattering pulled him from his thoughts. Jin had finished and was pushing his dish away as he stood. “Hey… Kazama. Where are you going?”

The dark man turned to look at him before turning and leaving. “Thank you for breakfast. I have to do something… alone.” He seemed to hesitate before turning and walking to the door.

“Now wait a second…” Hwoarang started to follow but stopped short as Jin turned to face him again.

“Hwoarang, I’m sorry that I can’t keep our promise of a rematch now. Things are… difficult. I promise that I’ll fight you later, I swear it.” He took a deep breath, his eyes hard and closed though they stared right through the redhead. Hwoarang couldn’t move. He felt so small under Jin’s gaze; it was as though the weight of his words were crushing him. He could hear what Jin wasn’t saying, read between the lines and knew that it would be so easy to just listen and leave so Jin could be alone and comfortable. Though he would have had a witty remark he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Jin’s and his breath caught in his throat. The air was suddenly heavy, or maybe it was just him.

“Please…” Jin continued, his eyes wavering before looking away. “I have to tell you to leave by the time I return. This is not a request,” his voice was firm and unyielding. “There is some money in a tin on the hutch and there’s a ferry that will take you to Kagoshima. You have no reason to stay, so just go.” He turned on his heel and left, only hesitating as he stepped from the cabin before he bowed his head and marched away.

Once he’d gone, Hwoarang felt the weight lift form the air and he dashed out the door after Jin. He banged down the steps to the soft bamboo-grass lawn, but Jin had already crossed the clearing and Hwoarang could only watch his back as it disappeared amongst the trees. “Fuck…” he said mouth agape. What the hell was going on? He walked across to try and find the path that Jin had taken, but it was invisible to his eyes. The trees grew together, the moss covering the ground and refusing to give up the path that the Japanese man had taken.

“ _Well, THAT went well,_ ” Angel hummed in his mind.

“What the…? I thought you had to hide or something!” Hwoarang said. “Won’t that bastard know you’re here?”

“ _Oh, he already knows, Hwoarang. Why do you think he’d giving Jin such a hard time? This isn’t good… if you wait it’ll be too late… but if you’re here when Jin gets back…_ ”

“You think I won’t be? Damnit, I’m here for Jin, so don’t think I’m gonna pull out now.”

“ _That’s a relief,_ ” Angel said, strangely relieved-sounding. She said nothing of Hwoarang’s use of Jin’s given name.

“Well, how about some advice. Should I follow-”

“ _No!_ ” she said immediately, cutting him off. “ _No, you’ll have to find something else to keep busy for today. Just be prepared for tonight…_ ”

“Yeah,” Hwoarang muttered as he felt her dig into his subconscious again. He heard a bird cry out and he looked to the sound. Whatever it was was hidden behind the wall of trees and the Korean shrugged his shoulders and walked back inside. It was darker inside when compared to the sunny clearing and he grabbed the plates to clean them before hearing his stomach grumble again. He was still hungry. He eyed the money tin that Jin had indicated and popped the lid off. It was full of money; single bills crumpled into balls, or several folded neatly together. The tin rattled with the change at the bottom and he fished out some coins and several wads of bills – enough for some food, more rice and maybe some snacks. He didn’t know how Jin could live without a bag of chips every now and then, but he was starting to feel a headache coming on from the lack of sugar in his body and he had all day to wait for his opponent to return.

+++

The path to town was easier to follow since Jin had shown him the way the day before. He’d paid attention to the unique trees along the way, acutely aware of their energy and recognizing it as it thinned out before the roadway. He broke through the tree line, climbing onto the road while overlooking the ocean as it glimmered beneath the sunlight. Really, when he stopped to look at it, Yakushima was in Jin; calm, strong, unpolluted, beautiful, rural… hot. He wiped his head as the sweat began to form, maybe not everything was the same, but the longer Hwoarang had to think about it, the more he was seeing the comparisons. He began hoofing it into town, passing by the onsen they’d visited the day before. He walked into the small building of the hot springs and was greeted by the same woman from earlier.

“Oh, hello! Hello!” she greeted again with the same, cheery expression. “You’re Jinny’s friend, aren’t you? Want to sit in the springs again? It’s nice today, you can sit outside, but there are other people so you’ll have to share!”

“Uh, no, thank you,” he said, a little surprised by her offer. He was surprised she remembered him and was even offering for him to use the springs. He was just a stranger. He’d always thought that people like her would be frightened by people like him. He hadn’t seen many other redheads around the island… “I was just wondering if you could give me directions, I need to get some food…”

“Oh! Poor Jinny didn’t buy enough food for you two? That boy trains so hard he forgets to eat! You’re a good friend to visit him like this,” she led Hwoarang to the counter and she began digging about in a box in one of the drawers. Hwoarang leaned over to see her flipping through several papers before she pulled one free with a satisfied noise. “Here it is,” she pressed the paper into Hwoarang’s hand. “Take this up the road to the Yamada market. Old Momo owes me a favour, and she won’t recognize you without this!”

“Uh, what is it?” The Yamada name sounding eerily familiar to him, though he couldn’t remember exactly how it did.

“Take it,” she said a knowing smile on her weathered face and she quickly rushed around the counter to grab Hwoarang by the arm and usher him out the door. “Give it to Momo, she’ll take care of you!”

Hwoarang could have sworn that she’d swatted his ass before the door closed behind him, but he tried not to think about it and looked at the stained piece of paper in his hand. A handwritten list of ingredients was scribbled onto it and he didn’t recognize half of the words. He knew Japanese, but a lot of the more complex scripts just hadn’t interested him enough to learn. He kinda regretted it at that point, but quickly shrugged and stuffed the scrap into his pocket. It didn’t matter. Jin had seemed to trust that woman, Inoue, and if Inoue trusted Momo, then he’d just give her the paper and let her do the work of translating. He just hoped that they had some junk food and his stomach grumbled at the thought.

The moment he’d walked through the door of the Yamada market he remembered why the name had sounded so familiar. The elderly Momo greeted him in much the same way as the girl from the café had the day before. Nana, wasn’t it? Momo and Nana, their names suited their personalities. They both talked a mile a minute and pressed food that he hadn’t asked for into his hands, insisting that he should eat it. He was glad Jin didn’t talk like that. He’d have been annoyed if every time he tried to talk to Jin he was greeted with a “No, leave me alone! Leave me alone! No reason, no reason to fight! Try this food!” He chuckled at the mental image, earning him a queer look from Momo as she was pulling several boxes from shelves behind the counter. He shook his head and tried to flatten out the smile that kept trying to break his neutral expression.

“Here we go! I'm sure this is what Inoue had in mind with that note... not that the smudges made it easy to understand, but I remembered the recipe." She pressed a tin to Hwoarang's hands. "It's just a special tea," she quickly explained, hastily producing a basket and filling it with some foodstuffs. "Take some of this, and this,” she tossed some packages of dried meats and fruit the basket. “And some of these too!” she quickly spun around and grabbed some tins off the shelf behind her. Hwoarang let her put whatever she wanted into the basket and hoped she'd give him a discount; he didn't think he'd brought enough money with him.

“Take the basket, return it later. I’m so glad to hear that Jin has someone so strong and handsome to take care of him!”

Hwoarang nodded politely before quirking his eyebrow. ‘ _What does **that** have to do with helping Kazama?_ ’ he thought to himself as he felt his ego swell a bit at the compliment. “Jin doesn’t need me, I’m just staying with him for a bit,” he tried offering up as more food was tucked into the basket. "That guy... he can take care of himself..." He could only imagine the thoughts running through her mind as she winked at him with a knowing smile.

“Hmm, what else,” Momo looked him up and down with an appraising glance before a smile broke her face and she nodded enthusiastically. "Junk food!" and quickly ushered him to another aisle that was fully stocked with all the kinds of crazy foods that people who didn’t care for their health ate. “I guess kids your age don’t have to worry about eating right all the time,” she said, motioning for him to continue on. “Grab whatever you like. Don’t worry about paying…” He walked down the aisle while she watched from the end. He looked upon the rows of drinks and junk that did nothing but add sugar to ones system. He grabbed a few cans of coffee and a six-pack of pop as well as a few chocolate bars and chips and a few things he didn’t recognize but had attractive packaging that made him wonder at the taste. He had a feeling that Jin would flip when he showed him what he’d bought, but he didn’t care. Jin would flip when he found that he hadn’t left on the ferry. He threw the unknown candies into the basket and then walked back to the woman, reaching into his pocket to pull the neatly-folded money. He looked through the bills, letting her see what he had and hoping that it was enough. “Always discounts for friends of the family,” she said as she reached out to pull whatever bills she wanted. “Nana wants you to visit again! She’s got more surprises that she wants you to try!” Hwoarang did his best to make his smile genuine as he inwardly shuddered at the thought of that girl pushing more of her made-up dishes onto him.

“Thank you,” the redhead muttered, deciding to turn the conversation away from Nana and her mystery foods. “So what’s with the discounts and freebies? Not that I’m complaining, but what’s so great about Jin?”

“We knew him growing up!” she exclaimed, as if it was the stupidest question in the world. “Jun was like a daughter and I watched Jin lots of times when he was just a baby. How could I make him pay full price?!” she nearly demanded. Her tone softened as she looked him up and down, “You’re with Jin, so you get a nice discount too!”

“I’m not really _with_ him…” Hwoarang tried, but was ignored.

“Take good care of that boy, alright?” her tone grew serious and she seemed to have hit a moment of complete coherency. “He’s strong and can handle himself, but everyone needs a little help and since you’re here, that means you’re the one to do it!” Her serious tone then vanished and she winked as she grabbed his arm and hurried him out of the shop and out into the street before he could ask anything more. He found himself kindly pushed out into the street, looking back at the closed door of the Yamada market before turning back to the main strip with its other shops and houses. The sun was still high in the sky, and he wouldn’t have minded exploring the town a little more. He had enough time, since Jin wouldn’t return until later. Hwoarang shifted the heavy basket of foods and drinks from one hand to the other and set to walking further up the street. It may have been the main street of Onoaida but it was nothing like the main streets back Korea – at least where he’d grown up. He had a feeling that the excitement closed with the shops and the only thing to do at night was to go to sleep. No all-night canteens or gambling halls for sure. Still, he had hours to kill and decided that trying to hunt down the elusive bar scene would be a good use of time. After all, what else could he do on his own?

The further in he ventured, the busier it became and he kept his eyes peeled since he’d convinced himself that if he looked hard enough he’d find a bar that served alcohol _somewhere_. He was tempted to turn around and head back to see Nana at the Sky Café, but thought better of it. With his luck she’d decide that he wanted something other than beer and refuse to sell it to him! His feet led the way up the paved street, turning sharply to take him down a side street that looked appealing. “C’mon, be~er. I know you’re here somewhere,” he mumbled. He was starting to itch for a smoke and added cigarettes to his list of wants for that moment. He promised whatever deity was listening that he’d be a good boy for the rest of the afternoon and go home to Jin’s cabin if he could just find _something_. The side street had its own share of shops peppered between houses. Several of them had signs out to advertise their wares, but most of them were invisible to the passers-by unless they were looking directly in the window. It was just as Hwoarang was promising to only smoke half the pack that something caught his eye and he all but leapt towards a shop window to look inside. “Jackpot!” he grinned, ignoring the odd look he received from a young woman standing beside the door.

The door was open, trying to vent some of the stale air from within, though the lone fan perched up next to the cash register seemed to be doing a poor job. Hwoarang didn’t care; it was grittier and dirtier than Momo’s shop, but he instantly felt at home and asked the old man behind the counter for a pack of smokes. He added a few cans of beer to his order and grabbed a lighter and papers while he was at it and threw his supplies into his basket. Once outside, he ripped the plastic off the cigarette pack and tapped the stiff box, wriggling it about until one of the slender sticks were knocked free and he brought it up to his mouth, roughly taking it with his teeth and pulling it free. The strong tobacco smell hit his nose before he lit the end. He could feel Angel in his mind rustling about uncomfortably and snickered as he lit the end, inhaling the first real puff of smoke into his lungs and letting the chemicals work on his system. He sighed, exhaling the grey smoke into the air. The woman from before was still leaning against the store wall, looking darkly at him and he glared back. “What’s your problem?” he asked, seeing her eyes flick up before quickly cutting away from him and looking down the street.

He tried to look up, almost laughing when the edges of his red hair came into view. So, it seemed he stood out a little too much for some people there. Well, he never liked fitting in and was used to the cool reception from some people. He was glad that Jin wasn’t as closed off to him when they’d first met. Then again, the other man had something that set him apart from everyone else. Something that would have gained him so much more ostricization than Hwoarang had ever experienced in his life. Hwoarang had never had any worries of a demon-parasite taking over his body… at least until he’d met Jun, and even then he was too dense for Angel to possess completely. He chuckled, being spiritually inept did have its advantages.

He felt Angel bristle at the thought, a wave of resentment washing over him and he bowed his head, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Sorry,” he muttered, turning and walking back to the main road that would take him back home.

+++

Jin grunted at the strain as he climbed over one of the Buick-sized boulders that littered that part of the Yakushima forest. He’d ventured in a new direction that morning and was surprised to find himself in a place he didn’t recognize. The trees were just as wizened as the other sugi on the island, but these ones were strangers to him and he relaxed his spirit, letting it mingle with the cedars by his side. Hwoarang probably wouldn’t have understood the significance in connecting with the trees to let them ‘smell’ you. He knew that Devil didn’t understand as the being grumbled within his mind.

The sugi’s aura mingled with his, shuddering uncomfortably when Devil poked back, and quietly retreated to allow him passage through their wood. The sky was blotted out by the leaves and it took a few more climbs over enormous boulders before Jin could see the sun’s rays poking between the canopy.

“ _It’s almost time to turn back…_ ” Devil thrummed merrily. “ _He’s probably gone now. I can’t sense him…_ ”

“Hmmm,” Jin mumbled, feeling disappointed. He’d really wanted Hwoarang to stay… he’d only pushed him away this time because Devil had been threatening to ruin the tentative friendship he’d forged with the other man. He didn’t even know how it had happened; he’d never really made any friends on his own, in fact, if it weren’t for Hwoarang’s persistent nature, he was sure he wouldn’t have seen the Korean beyond their first encounter. And here he was again, pushing his way into Jin’s business, and Devil had forced him back. No, Jin had forced him back. It was his own fear of discovery…

“ _There you go getting all melodramatic again, Jin,_ ” Devil chuckled in his mind. “ _Friends are a distraction that a you don’t require. Mourning their loss is a **weakness** that is unbefitting of my host!_ ” Devil’s sharp words stung deep within Jin’s heart. The constant speeches of ‘power’ and 'weakness' almost mirrored those that his grandfather had spewed at him years earlier. He’d learned to block most of them out, although the accusation that Hwoarang as a weakness was unsettling. The other man was anything but weak, and his presence didn’t leave Jin feeling weak at all. If anything, the knowledge that he’d left made him feel weak… he shuddered, realizing that he would only have Devil for company from then onward. For once, the lonely task did not appeal to him. His chosen opponent had left him, and while he'd told him to go, it wasn't what he'd wanted. He scowled, suddenly feeling foolish for his fanciful thoughts. The situation couldn't be helped, and he was being selfish. He'd see the fiery Korean at the next tournament, and it was too dangerous to let him stay, not with Devil always purring in his mind. He didn't want Hwoarang to see him like that. He hoped that Hwoarang was still oblivious to his demonic nature. Devil whispered otherwise in his mind, switching from assurances that nobody cared about him, to a diatribe about how his mother's goodness wouldn't reach him now.

"What are you talking about now?" he asked, exhaustedly turning around to head back to his home.

" _Oh nothing,_ " Devil chuckled in a sing-song way. " _I can feel you're slowing down. Tired, Jin? Maybe I should take over for a bit. We both know I can control your body better than you when it's at its limit like this._ "

"I'm not at my limit," Jin panted as he stumbled. "You know I've been in worse. I won't let you out willingly, bastard."

" _Ohh,_ " Devil tisked in a disappointed tone. " _You know how I hate it when you get all high and mighty like that, Jin. I'm your better half, I should be in control. Power is inside you and you quell it down, like one afraid of reaching is true potential! What good is being a god if you live as a man?_ "

"Shit, not this again," Jin mumbled, catching his breath as he found a familiar path through the weathered trees. "I'm not giving in to you tonight, so spare me your speeches."

" _As you wish, my darling **host**. You pushed that disagreeable Korean rat from you, so I'll acquiesce this once. His proximity was... disturbing. He and his white spirit were foolish to find us..._ "

Jin shut Devil out as best he could once the dark being started its commentary on everything that pissed it off… which was practically everything. He was still a good two-hour hike away from his home and any semblance of physical rest. He steeled his resolve, shutting out that voice completely as he focused on the pain in his limbs and joints, finding solace in the physical pain as he stumbled across the arching roots of another tree. Without the distraction of Hwoarang's presence, he could shut out that voice completely, and in the end, that was his purpose for being in Yakushima.

Although, if he were selfish, he'd feel otherwise.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Jin's requests for him to leave, Hwoarang is dead set on staying in Yakushima. When Devil becomes too much for Jin to take, the beast finally breaks free of his bonds and faces off against Hwoarang, who has finally let loose his own Angelic persona. Introductions are swift and the following battle is only the beginning in this confrontation of Angel versus Devil.

The pot was bubbling merrily on the stovetop, simmering with the meats and vegetables that Momo had given him – without his asking. It filled the small cabin with a delicious smell that made Hwoarang's belly grumble. He was starving! "Soon, my pet," he patted his stomach and added some spices to flavour the pot. He stirred the mixture before turning the flame off and put a kettle on the second element and set the flame to gently lick the bottom. He figured that the herbal tea would be well received when Jin returned, which was probably the only thing Jin would be happy to see. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be long until the other man came back and then he’d have to argue his way into staying longer. The Korean fighter stretched, feeling his muscles resist in a satisfying way before he stooped to grab a can of pop from the basket on the table and stepped out onto the porch.

The sky was still bright, but the telltale colours of the setting sun had begun to appear in the west and he knew Jin would be back soon. The wooden boards of the porch creaked as he sat down and leaned against one of the support beams while he pulled his smokes from his pocket. He felt guilty lighting it, but it was almost fitting that he continued. The smoke was a disturbance in the purity of the air, foreign and filthy; kinda like Devil was for Jin. Hwoarang stopped for a moment, analyzing that thought. “When did I decide Jin was all pure and shit?” he wondered, setting the lighter on top of the pack as he pulled the white, smoking cylinder from his lips. With a shrug he brought the can of pop to rest against his bottom lip and tilted it back to let the remainder of the liquid slide past his tongue and down his throat. The wicked bite of the carbonation stung in a good way and he pulled the can back, his eyes scanning the tree line for any movement. He sat like that for a few minutes, his cigarette burning away, the long line of ash breaking as he brought it to his lips again for a final drag before dropping it through the opening of the can. It hissed and then nothing and then… Hwoarang’s head shot up and he looked around the clearing. Had he imagined it? He could have sworn he’d heard something rustling beyond the trees… Angel stirred beneath his conscious, still hidden in his mind but even she could sense something was happening and Hwoarang frowned. The sound came again and he turned amber eyes to the source, this time louder as the reeds and greenery were pushed away and Jin stepped into the clearing from a hidden trail.

Hwoarang stayed where he was in front of the cabin, waiting for the other man to make the first move. He felt a shiver run down his back as Jin’s eyes locked onto him, never wavering as he approached at a slow, steady stride that only drew out the tension that suddenly filled the air between them.

“Hwoarang?” he finally asked, his eyes wide as he stood only a couple of metres from the redhead.

The Korean smiled, his teeth gleaming and he held his arms out as if to say, ‘yep!’

The faintest hint of a smile formed on Jin’s face, but quickly fell as a shadow fell over his eyes. “I thought I told you to leave.” His teeth glinted in the late-afternoon light, the lines of anger forming around his eyes. “Are you _that_ inconsiderate or just stupid?” he ground out, fists clenched.

“Hey, if I didn’t stop by to visit Momo and get you something to eat you’d starve!” Hwoarang climbed to his feet and turned to return inside the cabin to show his purchases as proof. “I even picked up some tea for you,” he said as an afterthought. His adrenalin was coursing through his veins as he entered the cabin, returning to the stove as he heard Jin follow behind him moments later. He looked in the pot, seeing that the meal was still simmering and quickly turned the flames off on both elements. He felt those dark eyes watching his every move, feeling the other man’s anger burning through him, even bridging the distance between them. He reached for the kettle, pulling it aside and reached for the tea that Momo had given him.

“In the morning I’ll take you to the airport to get out of here,” Jin said through grit teeth.

“I don’t have any money to fly outta here,” Hwoarang said as naturally as he could muster.

“Then I’ll _give_ you money,” Jin said. “You’ve got to leave.”

“No. I like it here, Kazama. It’s all calm and shit. No wonder you like it. I guess this is why you’re always so quiet, huh?” He adjusted his goggles on his head to casually break the gaze that Jin had him locked in. He saw the other man shake his head before storming over to the dresser and pulled something from a drawer. He was tense, almost… shaking. “Y’know there’s another tournament coming up?” Hwoarang asked casually asked, placing a lid on the pot. He was pushing his luck and he knew it, but he had to get it through Jin’s head that he wasn’t leaving. “I think I’ll stay here and then go there with you when it happens. I wanted to train for it anyways and who better to train with than you, Kazama?”

“Please… just leave…” Jin said, holding his head. “I don’t want you here…”

“What’s the matter?” Hwoarang asked, still with bravado in his voice but concern at the heart of the question. “Do you need a doctor?”

“No, I need you to GO!” Jin stood, quickly walking towards the door and pushing Hwoarang out of the way.

Hwoarang rushed out the door after him, the food and tea forgotten on the cooling stove. The sunlight was almost gone, and in the red sky the moon was fighting for dominance. He followed Jin until the darker man stopped by the edge of the forest.

“Why won’t you leave? Why the _hell_ do you keep following me? I thought you hated me, Hwoarang!” Jin clutched at his chest and braced himself against the side of a tree.

Hwoarang slowed his approach, watching his rival for a moment, a million thoughts going through his head. He could only imagine what Jin was going through and instinct – or Angel – was telling him to do _something_ , but he didn’t move. He remembered how Jin had reacted to his touch back at the springs. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew that he might piss Devil off if he made a wrong move and revealed Angel’s presence too soon.

He was torn, and so he just stood there, watching Jin as he leaned heavily against the bark of the ancient cedar, his back heaving with his breathing. Hwoarang inched closer, looking Jin up and down. He didn’t appear to be physically injured, and it suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know how to use Angel’s powers to heal Jin spiritually… or mentally. He’d barely figured out physical healing… Was it even the right time to use Angel’s powers? What would Jin say? He knew the other man had no idea about him, but he suddenly felt grossly unprepared.

He waited, feeling the weight of the silence between them pressing in on him and he absently scratched the back of his head before finally reaching out to touch Jin’s back. It was a brief contact, but even through that he could feel the evil pouring off the other man. ‘ _Not good,_ ’ he thought. ‘ _Devil must be giving him a hell of a time…_ ’

“Hwoarang?” Jin asked, his voice strained, forced. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

“I’m _really_ stubborn,” Hwoarang said, trying to laugh but failing.

“So… why are you here… really? Is it for me, or… something else?” Jin asked, turning to face Hwoarang with suspicious eyes that bordered on cracking. “I mean, do you honestly expect me to believe that you want to fight me _that_ badly?”

Hwoarang sighed; what could he say?

“I thought you hated me.”

“When did I ever say that?” Hwoarang asked, genuinely shocked. “I never said that, Kazama. Fuck, I just wanted to settle our fight!”

“Yeah, our fight…” Jin trailed off, his gaze wandering somewhere behind Hwoarang before he seemed to remember their conversation. “You have a habit of getting in my way when I’m busy, like now. If you don’t hate me, then leave me alone. I’m running out of time…”

“Sure thing, I’ll leave you alone, after I help you do whatever it is that you need to do. Then we can finish our fight?”

“No!” Jin yelled turning and walking back into the clearing. He marched out towards the other side of the yard, but stopped halfway as he doubled over. Hwoarang rushed to his side, this time firmly putting a hand on his shoulder. It was painful to touch him! He could feel the anger building inside him through the contact. “I-I just need to be by myself and quiet and-” he clutched at his head again and ground his teeth against a rumbling groan that spread through his chest.

Hwoarang roughly grabbed his rival by his shoulders and spun him around to look at him. “Jin?! What’s wrong? You fucking idiot, if you think I’d leave you when you’re like this...”

Jin shuddered violently, “H-he’s getting stronger. Please just go!” Jin’s body bowed backwards and Hwoarang wrapped his arms around his rival to hold him steady.

“That bastard! What the fuck is he doing to you, Kazama?” Hwoarang felt a surge of energy rushing through Jin’s body. He almost dropped the other man, but he held on tight. He wouldn’t let go, even though the energy was frightening, even though he knew to hold on would be dangerous… he wouldn’t leave. “Oh fuck, hold on!” he pulled Jin up until he was looking into the other man’s eyes. Those orbs that were usually so dark and brooding were rolling back in their sockets and Hwoarang had never been more frightened for someone in all his life. Even when Hitch was bleeding all over the floor, this was different. Jin was different. He could feel the darkness inside taking over. He could fucking _feel_ it! It was twisting Jin into a monster. The Jin that he’d fought, and thought about, and even obsessed over for so long was slowly slipping away. He was losing his mind!

Hwoarang gripped Jin tighter, pressing their bodies together and the other man’s head flopped exhaustedly against his shoulder and he concentrated on trying to draw on that white energy he’d used so few times before. He trusted Angel to help him direct her powers towards Jin’s consciousness. He had to trust her. He closed his eyes and focused, clearing his mind of all of his anxiety and apprehension and fear for Jin and remembered how easily that white light had filled him once he’d let it in. He sighed, picturing that point of white in his mind as he stroked the back of Jin’s head, calming the other man as he willed that warm energy through his fingertips to spread between their bodies. He felt Jin shudder against him and Hwoarang tensed his body further, putting all his energy into bringing that white, healing light to life. He brought their first encounter to the forefront of his imagination, recalling the exhilaration he’d felt when Jin had stood up to his attacks with equal strength. _Equal_ strength! He’d loved it! Whenever he’d seen Jin after that he’d been filled with the same giddy hope that they could do it again. What would he feel if that feeling was taken away from him? If _Jin_ was taken away and replaced with a dark copy that didn’t even bear the same soul that he’d come to know and respect? He’d feel mad… his grip tightened and the white wavered around his mind. No, he’d be more than mad. He’d feel loss… violation! His Jin would have been stolen from him and he wouldn’t get to fight him or even drink with him or just… be…

He felt his heart aching at the thought of the loss, that bitter warmth that brought his anger to the surface and filled him with burning fire. It started out in his chest but spread across his torso, through his limbs and into his skull. His strength and confidence radiated from him in powerful, red tendrils of energy that sparked from his angelic white centre. He closed his eyes and felt the sources of heat on his back growing to form feathered wings and he focused his strength through his hands and into the body that he had pulled against his chest; the body that was struggling with all its might to move away from him. He held tightly as Jin growled and lashed out, digging long, black talons deeply across Hwoarang’s chest.

“Foolish boy!” Jin growled, taking another swipe and knocking the redhead backwards with the force of the hit, although he managed to keep his footing. Hwoarang stepped back, the white light fading around him as he stood before Jin in his angelic form, eyes locked onto Jin’s which began to glow and he let loose a terrible howl of agony as two black shadows burst free from his back.

“Kazama!” Hwoarang yelled, keeping his distance a few steps away, but what was a few steps might as well have been a few miles for all the good it did him. Jin gripped his head with clawed hands as he lurched forward, a terrible scream resonating on his lips as Hwoarang watched, horrified as two bony points forced their way through his forehead, crackling with electricity and reaching for the moon as they spiraled upwards to sit as a set of horns upon Jin’s head like a crown. The horns gleamed as did the fangs that were suddenly visible at his mouth.

Jin was still screaming; his voice cracking as the terrible sound erupted from deep within him. He desperately clutched his chest, holding himself tightly before his head snapped back as something gripped him, leaving his mouth agape as that harrowing scream turned guttural and his wings splayed out in a magnificent display as his body was illuminated by an incredible flash of light. Hwoarang was taken aback at the brilliant sight, deciding that it could only be compared to black lightening encasing the other man before it dissipated, retreating within Jin. Only… Hwoarang blanched as he realized that it was no longer his Jin that stood before him. It was a devil in Jin’s body. His hair fell about the two, angular horns what arched out from his head and pointed straight forward like a challenging bull. His eyes were now white, glowing with a terrible light that was simply-put; creepy. Black pants seemed to have been painted on his legs with yellow-red fire arching up one leg and several chains were wrapped around his limbs, almost as an afterthought or fashionable touch, though the Korean knew they’d be put to use in due time.

Devil was in control as everything became deathly quiet, Jin’s scream had long-finished echoing through the clearing and the two divinely-influenced fighters paused before their battle. The wind rippled through the air, gently blowing the bamboo grass and teasing Devil’s bangs about his face. Hwoarang narrowed his eyes, ignoring even the simple feeling of the breeze and concentrated on Devil. The creature’s aura was impressive, although it was not something Hwoarang could bring himself to admire. It was disgusting compared to Jin. He suddenly understood exactly what Jun had asked of him, the full weight of her desperate request cascaded down upon him as he bore witness to exactly what terrible curse her son had come to inherit. He glared down his nose at the other man and raised his fists to show he was ready. He’d keep his promise for both their sakes, and prayed that their fight wouldn’t end in a simple draw; that was simply not an option, and his pride had nothing to do with it.

Their eyes locked and Hwoarang glared into those black-white orbs, waiting for the first indication that the other man would move. Hwoarang liked fighting, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew Jin’s fighting style, but wanted to gauge Devil’s strength and technique before he dove in head-first. There was more resting on this battle than his reputation; his life would be over if he lost.

They stood there for what felt like hours before Hwoarang noticed it, the slight movement of a creased brow around Devil’s eye before the other man moved forward with god-like speed, driving himself through the air with his black, feathery wings that were a mirror image to Hwoarang’s own white appendages – a dark mirror image.

Hwoarang’s fists moved up to block and deflect the swift succession of attacks that Devil began with, several blatant punches aimed straight for his vital spots and a few debilitating kicks that would have broken bone if they’d struck their mark. The first flurry of attacks was fast-paced and impressive, acting as a test to gauge each others speed and competence for a stronger assault.

“I thought I’d smelled a rat when you got here!” Devil Jin clacked, tossing his head to the side as he backed away to gloat. “Angel should have stayed back and watched what one with a true drive for greatness can do. Your irritating persistence has annoyed me long enough, Korean filth,” his lips curled around his fangs as he spoke, yet his voice was clear and thick with the same evil aura that had encompassed Jin. “Now I can quash two tiresome bugs in one move!” He took a step towards Hwoarang and the angelic fighter moved back, keeping a safe distance between them.

“It’ll take more than one move to stop me, so I hope you’re ready to have your ass kicked!” Hwoarang spoke through clenched teeth, his form staying true to anticipate the next move. He knew how quickly the gap between them could close when either of them decided to put their wings to use.

“Usually I block Jin’s conscious when I take over,” the black demon continued, as if Hwoarang hadn’t said anything. “However, this time I think I’ll allow him to witness the destruction of his _chosen_ one. How pitiful! You didn’t even come here for him and he derived such happiness at the thought that you had!” He rolled his head back, cracking his neck as he went, before he sprang forward and the space between them closed in an instant. Hwoarang moved to match and the air filled with the blur of moving limbs that lashed out at one another to attack or block.

Hwoarang deflected a punch before grabbing it and redirecting it to get in close. He drove a knee into Devil’s side before spreading his wings and leaping back to land several metres away, leaving Devil Jin between him and the cabin. He barely had time to think of his next move when his reflexes moved into action and his knee bent to let him roll out of the way of a swift lancing attack as Devil sprang forward. He rolled, tucking his wings out of the way before turning to face the beast again, keeping his fists up and at the ready. “You’re flattering yourself if you think I’m here for you,” Hwoarang said, taking the opportunity to fill the air with his voice. “I’m here for Jin. I just gotta get past you to get to him. Hey Kazama, can you hear me?” he asked, trying to talk to the man that was trapped behind Devil’s power.

The demon roared, leaping into the air and held aloft by two downward beats of his wings before his eyes glowed bright for a moment and a flash of light shot out from his forehead, hitting Hwoarang and knocking him back. The attack singed the white gauntlets and Hwoarang could feel the heat burning through the leather, suddenly grateful that his clothing was strong enough to deflect the energy from the blast. He didn’t have time to think about it as he saw the other man’s eyes glow again and he sprang into the air, flying backwards as the concentrated blast shot to the ground where he’d stood moments earlier.

Hwoarang hovered a moment before landing, keeping his eyes on his opponent that was muttering something under its breath as he landed a few metres from him. “Kazama! Fight him, damnit!” Hwoarang called out as he stood his ground, feeling his power surge within him at Angel’s insistence. It swelled in waves, forcing its way through his head, his eyes locked onto Devil’s form before everything went white and he felt that power focus like a vacuum to a central point on his forehead before blasting free towards his target. The kickback from the blast snapped his head back, but he knew he’d hit his mark as Devil howled in fury.

“I’m surprised that a whelp like you could gain her power, or even learn how to use that attack!” he snarled as Hwoarang quickly regained his stance. “However, your inexperience will be your death!” He bowed forward, eyes glowing again before his laser attack ripped through the air, electricity coiling around the solid beam of light that burned the ground where the angelic fighter had stood moments before.

Hwoarang was already on the move, side-stepping the attack and launching himself towards his opponent, catching the darker man by surprise and knocking him to the ground. He perched on top of Jin, pummeling him with a series of swift punches, but the position was precarious, and even from below, a skilled opponent could control the fight.

Jin was a skilled opponent.

Devil made him ruthless.

White feathers fell around them as Hwoarang cried out, never expecting Devil to go for a low-blow and dig into his wings with his clawed hands. He tried wrenching free, but the action only brought more pain as he was held fast by the demon beneath him. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. It was almost as if his arms were being twisted in abnormal directions, the skin and muscle being stricken from bone. His fists fell silent, only bracing against Jin’s chest as the beast tugged and a bitter cry fled his lips at the agony. White was flashing behind his vision and he felt as if there was a heavenly voice inside his head, calling him into unconsciousness. He felt his eyes rolling back in his head and might have lost consciousness from the pain if Devil hadn’t made a sound to draw him back. It was pure sadistic pleasure that curled from those dark lips, a bestial sound that was thick with salacious desire for more of his cries.

Hwoarang peered down to the man beneath him, clenching his teeth against the pain and reached down to dip his fingers into the inky-black feathers that made the bed upon which Jin lay. They were just as soft as his, and when he dug into the bone, twisting and jerking, he elicited the same cry of pain from Jin as had been wrought from his own mouth. Hwoarang was nearly at his breaking point, but he’d been at that point so many times during training in the past that he knew he could hold on for a bit longer. “Kazama… Jin…” he grit out, breathing heavily. “Fight…” He trailed off as Devil twisted harder, wrenching the thin layer of skin until the bone was surely bruised. He wanted to cry; his wings were so damn sensitive! They were made for feeling the slightest shift in the wind, to carry him along… not stand as something to be twisted and pulled! It was Hwoarang’s stubbornness that made him keep fighting and he released his grip on Jin’s wings to grab the other’s horns instead, bringing his face close to look right into the other man’s eyes. “Jin?” he asked, drawing his face away, “Sorry!” he exclaimed as he drove his forehead down into the brunette’s twisted face. The claws that were wrenching his white wings from his back loosened and the Blood Talon rolled away, quickly climbing to his feet and reached back to touch a tender wing before letting out a grunt of annoyance. He’d think twice about climbing back onto him in the future.

Devil was on his feet at the same time as Hwoarang, but instead of rushing towards the Korean, the two fighters seemed to pause as they each inspected their wings, feeling out the tender appendages. There were black and white feathers dotting the ground around them, being taken up by the wind and blown away. Their eyes never left each other, though a reluctant acceptance of their strength seemed to grow in them both. Hwoarang eyed his rival, a brief thought flashed through his mind. In a way he was getting his rematch, since they were equal again. Still, some things were better left alone, and a fight with the added powers wasn’t what he’d been thinking about for so long. He hadn’t wanted supernatural attacks and evil spirits soiling their time together. Jin sprang towards him and he faltered, distracted by his thoughts he gave the other man the perfect opening for a terrible corpse-thrust right to his ribs. He doubled over, the wind knocked from his lungs and giving Devil many more openings to pound into his back and kick up into his face before he blocked what he could and moved away again. The beast tried to follow, but the Korean used his wings to carry him further back.

“I can’t believe that Jin thought you were worthy of his time,” Devil clucked, merriment evident in his eyes as Hwoarang spat to clear his mouth. The blood was leaking from his face where he’d been hit and trailed along his vest, smearing the angry red into the pristine, white clothing.

“Aw, really? Now you’re just making shit up,” Hwoarang wiped his mouth and focused his energies on healing the cut above his eye. “He was always too busy with personal crap to give me the time of day.” He’d talk while he healed, semi-grateful for the break he was getting. He could cure his injured ribs, although his clothing was officially ruined.

“You were always a pain in our side,” Devil hissed, his wings fluttering around him, clearly healed from whatever damage Hwoarang had done. “You were annoying and pretentious, but he’d planned on fighting you because he…” he cringed suddenly, bringing a hand to his head as if he was distracted.

‘ _Kazama?_ ’ Hwoarang thought, immediately seeing his opening and rushing forward to pay Devil back in kind for his broken – now healed – ribs. His initial kick was blocked, but he managed to quickly recover and plant two more into Jin’s side before switching stances and lifted the other man off the ground with a tsunami kick. He was sure he’d felt something break as his foot connected and he immediately leapt into the air, deciding to try out some aerial attacks while he had his opportunity. He flew high into the sky, hoping that Devil would follow. The moon was bright enough to act as a suitable target to aim for and he flapped his wings fiercely, trying to bring himself high enough before turning around to look down upon the clearing. It was a sea of dark trees surrounding a lighter patch of the green. The light was reflecting off the river and he could easily see Devil looking at him from the darkness.

Those glowing eyes bore into him, even from that distance, and they grew closer, bobbing with every beat of Devil’s powerful wings. Hwoarang balled his fists and tensed his whole body, warming it for the exertion he was about to put it through. The leather creaked around his knuckles and stretched comfortably around his legs as he hovered mid-air, staring down as his opponent drew closer. He leaned forward and flapping his wings once before folding them against his back, diving through the air, faster and faster, rushing down towards those eyes that seemed like the headlights on a freight train.

He’d found sky-diving thrilling when he’d done it back over Korea, but now the sensation was tinged with the adrenaline of bloodlust. It was the kind that he could feel at the back of his throat before a match, churning through his veins in anticipation of the beautifully executed moves that he displayed as he broke his opponent down. He fell fast, and what felt like minutes was actually a matter of seconds and in a flash of movement the two men met. Hwoarang’s instinct propelled his attacks, driving a punch beneath Jin’s block as his wings fluttered and he fell to the side, just missing a heavy attack from Devil’s boot. There was no moment for rest as the two put all their strength and energy into tearing the other down from the sky.

Hwoarang barrel-rolled out of the way of a vicious attack before snapping back into Devil’s face with a kick as he flew past and upwards into the sky. He strove to put a few dozen metres between them, but it turned into a chase as Devil was hot on his tail. For a brief moment, the cold sound of dueling wing-beats filled the space between them before Hwoarang turned and smoothly swung his leg around, bringing his heel down to catch Jin across the face as he came up on him. It would have been graceful too, if it hadn’t been caught and held fast in Devil’s iron-grip.

Hwoarang’s heart skipped a beat before he twisted to try and free himself. He could feel the strength in the other man’s grip, and knew that if his boots weren’t so strongly reinforced with steel plating, that his foot would have already been crushed. With a grunt of irritation he tried kicking his other foot out, finding it difficult to maneuver in the air. His wings flailed about as they tried to keep him upright as he twisted and turned to free himself. Devil, however, pressed his advantage and reached higher along the Korean’s leg to pull him close. His hand clamped around a white-clad thigh before the other released his foot and reached higher to grab Hwoarang’s vest and pull the redhead down to his level. White wings faltered and Hwoarang lost his balance, his weight falling into Jin’s body and the other man struggled to keep them both aloft. The wind whipped around them, stirring their feathers as Jin’s wings beat furiously to support both their weight. Hwoarang sank heavily against him when he saw it was difficult and pressed his advantage.

“Fool!” Jin bellowed as Hwoarang locked his arms around his body, holding on tight as the other man bore into him with vicious-yet-awkward attacks. “What do you think you are doing? Release me!” He brought his arms around Hwoarang’s back and began tearing at the redhead’s wings again.

Hwoarang hollered at the pain, his face twisted up and he gnashed his teeth, but he couldn’t let go, instead clinging tighter to the other man. It difficult to understand, but he was overcome with the _feeling_ of what he had to do. He could see Yakushima below them, now only a small form amongst the darker waters the surrounded it. There was a good distance between them and the trees and he remembered the test of trust that Angel had put him through. The tests that had pushed him to realize the healing abilities locked deep within him. He’d figured out how to heal physical wounds, and even though there was more that he needed to figure out, and still more that he’d never know, he realized that it didn’t matter. All that mattered at that moment was putting what he knew to use and he closed his eyes, hoping Angel gave him a little hint so he wouldn’t screw up.

The pain from Jin’s attacks stung throughout him. The sound of tearing feathers filled his ears. It burned. It fucking _hurt_ , but Hwoarang held on tight. Devil ripped at his wings before his claws sought out the rest of his body, digging into his flesh and tearing at his arms. The smell of blood filled Hwoarang’s nose and for the first time it made him sick. It was getting harder to hang on, but he ducked his head into the crook of Jin’s neck and turned his thoughts inward.

He closed off his senses and traveled deep inside himself. The pain followed his mind down towards that inner light that he could feel burning at his core. Everything that was happening outside his body didn’t exist in that chamber and it was strange how vividly it all appeared to him. He saw the colours and shapes and elements that comprised his soul, with the foreign, glassy essence that was not his own mingling therein. It took the shape of a flame burning brightly, and he could see the form of Angel glimmering at the centre of the heavenly fire.

Devil’s roar of outrage crashed through the sanctuary, but Hwoarang’s mind did not falter. The pain reigned around him and he fearlessly stepped into the flame. It crackled as he entered, growing hotter as it became tinged with a red energy that turned it from pure white to a dark, blood-pink. Angel remained at the core, watching as Hwoarang made the energy his own. It burned hotter, brighter and angrier as he molded the fire to his own soul until it completely overtook him. He was blinded to all but the red-hot power coursing through him and pushing him back into awareness of his body.

When he opened his eyes he was still clinging to Jin’s waist. The energy that he’d found inside himself was burning through his skin, surrounding him with light that was as clear as white crystal at the base, but glowed with angry red licks of flame that hungrily reached out to caress Jin’s body, leaving trails of smoke where it touched the possessed man.

Devil was gnashing his teeth in outrage, his limbs still tearing into Hwoarang’s body, but nothing he did could loosen Hwoarang’s grip on him. It was as if Angel’s conscious had been superimposed alongside Hwoarang's and they were fighting as one in his body. Her strength helped him force that energy outwards, through skin-on-skin contact with the other man as their bodies pressed together and the light spread across to touch Jin’s body. Hwoarang concentrated hard to flick his mind out and the energy reached further, beyond skin and bone and right into the heart of Devil’s influence.

Hwoarang could see, no, feel… it was beyond the familiar five senses. He just _knew_ what he was touching inside of Jin. He could feel his way around and feel the all-encompassing black that swirled and stung at him. It was as if Jin was filled with evil, every inch of him occupied by that dark presence. It was so thick that wherever Hwoarang concentrated on filling it with light, the black would swirl about and sift until the light was blotted out with its dark essence. It was like trying to clear the air in a smoke-filled house by waving your hand around. Hwoarang realized that as painful as it was for Devil, it just wasn’t enough to make a difference. He took one last swipe within Jin before withdrawing, pausing as his mind brushed over something hard and solid within the other man. It was shiny, almost like a gleaming gem immersed in a bed of sand, ever at risk of being swallowed by the shifting dunes which threatened to bury it. Hwoarang focused on touching it again and was shocked to feel Jin’s familiar essence reaching back to him. He could feel the tiredness ebbing through their thin connection, the exhaustion and frustration that the other man was locked into as Devil had control over his being.

The Blood Talon held onto that solidity even as his consciousness slipped free and Devil’s dark presence bore down on him. He felt himself being pushed away from Jin and deeper into the pits of his soul. Hwoarang flailed about, his mind suddenly feeling the effects of vertigo and confusion as it was filled with terrible visions that Devil projected towards him. Some visions were foreign to him, only making him fear for a moment before it disappeared and changed to something else. Others, unfortunately, were familiar and terrifying, sending agonizing waves of nausea through his mind as he was shown visions of his friends lying dead before him, his life in ruins as hell itself swept across his life in the nightmare that Devil forced upon him. Though it was just his mind, he felt as if his body was trapped in that void of dark hell and flailed about to gain some purchase to fight the visions. His mind shot up and again felt that solid diamond in the rough that glimmered in the darkness. He brushed against it, his mind clearing for a moment before he felt himself being pulled back as Angel wrenched him free of Devil’s clasping power and snapped him back into his own body.

Hwoarang’s eyes shot open, his mouth open and gasping for air that seemed to only now matter that he’d been forced back into his body. He was overwhelmed with a barrage of sensations that had, for a few moments, been cut off from him as he’d focused all his energies on making that connection with Jin. While he’d been occupied, Angel had been controlling his body, keeping him close to Devil and doing her best to block his attacks. Of course, staying close enough for Hwoarang to reach inside of Jin had put her at a disadvantage and among the feelings that Hwoarang experienced, unspeakable pain was at the forefront to greet him as he regained control. As if to compound that pain he felt Jin’s energy shift, seeing the hazy black outline of his aura before it cracked with lightning that danced along his skin to nip at Hwoarang’s flesh.

The Blood Talon loosened his grip and kicked away from the other man, intending to fly around and swing up to a higher point in the sky, but instead he found himself spiraling downward as it became painfully obvious that his wings had been torn and battered. Trying to flap them only sent a barrage of pain through his body and he fell helplessly through the sky, spiraling from dizzying heights towards Yakushima. His eyes watered as the air rushed past him, blurring his vision and whipping his hair about as his wings trailed behind him. They felt broken. He tried to pull them in again, just to fold them against his body so they wouldn’t be snapped about by the wind, but every time he tried, a terrible pain stabbed through him and he couldn’t do anything but let them flail about behind him. It was just like the time he’d been in the hospital and his ribs had been killing him – definitely broken. He would have to do something fast; he was still fairly high above Yakushima, although gravity was helping to reduce the distance every second. He rolled onto his back to locate his opponent in the expanse of sky and cloud. He didn’t have to look too far as he spotted Devil soaring down after him like a hawk diving after its kill. Hwoarang groaned; his wings still ached and it was impossible to draw them in, so he focused on spreading the energy that still burned within him out towards the feathered appendages. He half-expected to hear Angel’s voice in his mind barking orders, but she was strangely silent. He could sense her presence in his mind, although something was different about her. She wasn’t digging deep into his subconscious as she had when he’d first arrived, she was… moving outward… taking control.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, his words swallowed up by the roaring of the wind. He flailed about as his body suddenly felt too crowded, his skin becoming tight and his eyes rolled back as he felt the familiar light encompassing his frame.

“ _You’re injured,_ ” Angel piped in his mind. “ _You need some help._ ”

“I’m fine!” Hwoarang cursed. “I don’t need your help.”

“ _I told you to trust me, so do it already! Gravity is a bitch, Hwoarang! Let me in!_ ”

The redhead gritted his teeth. He knew what needed to be done, but giving up control wasn’t something he could easily do. He wouldn’t just roll over, close his eyes and give Angel free run of his body. He looked up at Devil, metres away, talons glinting in the moonlight. Jin’s eyes were white pools staring back at him with malice that promised fulfillment. Hwoarang’s mind was racing with excuses for why he couldn’t let go, but Angel continued pushing on his consciousness; pushing for control so they would survive. He couldn’t fly away, couldn’t even raise an arm up to block as the other man drew closer to him, reaching out to slice him to ribbons. He took a deep breath and time seemed to slow down as everything grew quiet. The roaring wind was a dull roar, Devil's roar of attack slowed to little more than a whisper and it was the split-second Hwoarang needed to shut his eyes and mentally step back, relaxing his body as he felt the divine presence step into the soles of his feet and fill him to capacity, and then the moment had passed, time sped up, and he felt his body move under an influence that was not his own.

When he opened his eyes, it was as if he was peering out to the outside world, only his eyes were like bright, glass windows that added a heavenly-white haze to everything he saw. He was still conscious, although his body was now shared; all control and strength given over to her. His body was moving on its own and it was a bit disconcerting to see his arm strike out with a clenched fist when he hadn’t willed it to do so. He pushed back with his will, testing the bonds that connected Angel to his body and realized that her hold on him was tentative at best and any resistance on his part would jar her from power and leave him vulnerable to any attacks Devil sought to throw at him. He relaxed; he’d trusted her before, he’d have to do it again.

Devil was upon him the moment Angel had taken over and although she was doing her best to ward him off, things weren’t going too well. Hwoarang – having more free time to watch the fight without worrying about participating – saw that Devil’s eyes were full of anger, Jin’s attractive features twisted into a scowl that knit his brows together and contorted his face to an ugly visage of rage. Jin never looked like that. He’d never seen that look in the other man’s eyes, and he was suddenly gripped with the thought of Jin always looking like that. He’d touched Jin when he’d been reaching into his body with his mind. He’d felt the solid presence within the swirl of chaos, the shining diamond in the rough that was buried in black sand. Jin was still in there and he couldn’t forget the feeling of touching him.

The battle between Angel and Devil was unlike anything Hwoarang had ever seen. He marveled as she directed his body in a fighting style that he’d never used before. Defensive, gentle, and yet brutal with its attacks. Even in mid-air, hindered by broken wings, she moved him about with angelic grace, using Devil’s body for leverage to slow their descent to the ground. Hwoarang blanched at the remembrance; the ground was nearly upon them. He mentally reached behind to his wings which were still flailing helplessly at his back. Angel was too busy to worry about them, although he hoped she had a plan for what they’d do before they hit the ground. No, she was too busy; it would be up to him. He turned from gazing out his eyes and looked backward with his mind. Looking with the mind’s eye was so much different than seeing with regular eyes. Things weren’t coloured and detailed, they were made up of energy, still colourful but in different ways. He could see the protrusions from his back, the thick base from which they’d sprung and then stretched out with thin bones. He couldn’t see feathers, although the energy that was splaying from the wings did jut out a bit in crimson rivulets. He spread his energy outward along the bone, feeling the breaks and fractures that Devil had inflicted while Hwoarang had been busy contacting Jin. He focused on the breaks, knowing they'd take the most effort. The energy flowed through him, filling the cracks and pooling around the jagged edges of bone and ripped cartilage. The healing was just as painful as the breaking, but he ignored it and willed the bone to snap back together and knit with the aid of his concentrated energy. He spread his focus out to encompass both wings and set to mend the rest of his injuries. By the time he'd finished, he was exhausted, only dimly aware of Angel pulling his wings inward before snapping them out to catch the air and halt his descent. The sudden movement snapped his attention back to the visual battle happening. He watched detachedly, almost as if he'd left his body and was witnessing from a short distance off as the two winged creatures fought with a stunning display of aerial attacks, both agile and deadly. His white vest that had been so pristine and clean was showing his blood as it ebbed down his chest. Droplets splattered free as Angel fired out a series of punches that hit their mark while speedily angling her wings to dive out of the way of Devil's Thunder Godfist. She plunged several metres, nearly missing the treetops before whirling around for another attack from below.

It was strange to see his body being used for punching attacks, when he’d always favored kicks. He winced as Devil caught Angel’s – no, his – arm as she tried another attack. He saw the flash of panic rush through Angel’s aura as the arm was pulled taught and twisted about. He could almost feel the tendons being stretched to their limit before, in an act of desperation, Angel brought his leg up to kick the beast away. Devil let out a roar before slashing down into Hwoarang’s thigh, his claws sinking deep into the muscle before Hwoarang’s vision faltered and everything went black.

When he opened his eyes again he was in his own body and Angel was tossed to the back of his mind. He could feel her soul shudder with exhaustion, she’d used up everything she had to save him and Devil was still there, bearing down on them. Hwoarang, now in full control of his body, flapped his wings to keep himself level, staring Devil down as the two seemed to pause in their fight. The redhead never dropped his guard as he mentally checked his body for any injuries that Angel had incurred. He felt the gash in his thigh throbbing with a dull ache, the wet blood ebbing down his leg. He was sore along his chest, but he already knew of the gashes there. His wings felt fine, despite the red that had sprayed across them. They felt strong and though he was hurting, his brief spiritual rest while Angel fought had let him build up his energy so he could stand against Devil. He gauged the distance between them and his body tensed as he prepared to dive towards the other man – the demon – and hand-deliver some payback for his clawed-up thigh. His eyes never left Devil’s as he angled his body, flapping his wings once before raising them high and bringing them down in a powerful blast that propelled him forward.

It was in the fraction of a second before their two bodies collided that the Blood Talon was close enough to clearly see Devil’s eyes. It was in that non-existent moment that he realized why the creature hesitated; he was exhausted. The beast was tiring, his hold on Jin’s body was weakening and the Japanese’s consciousness was struggling to take advantage of that fact. It was interesting the things that could pass in a handful of seconds, Hwoarang mused, before the instant passed and he slammed into the other man.

The blow seemed to snap Devil’s power back in control for a moment and his reaction was immediate and deadly, the gem on his forehead glowed brightly and a focused blast of energy shot forward, narrowly clipping Hwoarang’s wings as he clung to his opponent once more, carrying him along with the momentum of his attack. Devil was snarling and gnashing his teeth, so close they were, as they plummeted to Earth. The blast didn’t stop and Devil continued to expel all his power out in an attempt to punch a hole through whatever part of Hwoarang was unfortunate enough to get in the way. The two tumbled through the sky, wings slicing through the air rather than catching it and the trees welcomed their falling bodies, the braches bending and breaking under them as they crashed into the ground, Devil’s energy blasting out behind them before he was spent and everything went dark.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the biggest fight of their lives Jin needs to come to terms with the fact that his secret it out and his mixed feelings of anger and humilation. There are more important things to worry about, however, as the two men are badly injured after their fight and they still have to figure out where the hell they are.

When Hwoarang opened his eyes the first thing he felt was pain. Not quite blinding agony, but more like a dull ache that spread through one’s body after they’d spent the previous day doing the most extraneous exercises possible. He seemed to remember feeling similar discomfort the morning after a really good marathon of fucking, although that pleasant memory left him as he tried to get up and the blinding pain rushed upon him. It had been waiting to make its presence known as he climbed to his feet, drawing attention to his ribs – which had no-doubt met with a few tree branches on his way down – and his leg, which became the centre of his focus when he tried to stand. He cursed, switching to his native Korean as his hands shot down to try and ease the pain. It was so dark he could barely see his arms, and his heart thudded loudly in his chest as he felt the telltale moisture covering his fingers as he felt along his leg. He groaned, externalizing the pain that was throbbing through his entire body.

He shivered and his eyes were drawn to the prone body of his rival that was sprawled out at his feet. He could barely see the other man save for his pale skin that contrasted with the darkness. Hwoarang crouched down, biting back a moan as his leg protested being used at all, and reached out to touch Jin’s shoulder. The darker man had taken the brunt of the fall, being on the bottom and Hwoarang looked him over; well, more feeling than looking. He could see the dark shapes of his hands running along the Japanese’s back, leaving a dark trail behind as his fingers brushed over cuts and scrapes. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized that he could feel warmth emanating from Jin’s body and knew he was still alive. He exhaled a breath of relief, wanting to say something but the words really weren’t working for him. Nothing he wanted to say would fit the situation and anything that fit the situation wasn’t his style to utter. It was just as well, since Jin wouldn't have heard him anyways. He reached across to grab Jin’s shoulder to roll him over when he noticed something strange; Jin’s wings had vanished. His hand brushed along his rival’s back to where he knew the black protrusions had sprung and he was suddenly aware that his own white wings had vanished as well, as had Angel. Through mixed feelings he tried to sort through his thoughts, seeing if he could feel her presence, but if she was there, she wasn’t replying… or wasn’t able.

“Great,” he bit out, feeling frustrated. How long had they been lying there? It was pitch-dark in that area of the forest, so it couldn’t have been for very long… or they’d been lying out there for longer than a day and it had become night again. He shook his head and reached back to Jin’s shoulder to shake the other man. “Kaza-?” He stopped short as the unconscious man made a noise, more like a grunt of pain. "Shit," Hwoarang groaned, realizing he was probably in really bad shape. His mind buzzed with thoughts of what he should do. He was already chilled to the bone and even without his military training it was obvious they had to find shelter. Moving Jin was equally dangerous if he'd hurt his neck or head in the fall, but it was a risk he'd have to take, and Hwoarang swore that he'd use every last bit of his strength to heal him if something went wrong. For the first time in a while his thoughts returned to Dr. Yon and he wished that she could be there with him if only to tell him what to do.

He bit his tongue to keep from crying out as he hoisted Jin up to lean against him. He couldn't decide if it was his ribs or leg that felt worse, but a groan and subsequent cursing expressed the feeling as he blindly stumbled along the trail, a prayer mixed amid the swearing asking that someone, preferably divine, guide him to shelter soon.

One foot... in front of the other... Hwoarang pushed himself along, oblivious to everything else except for the added weight on his back and the warning his ribs were giving that they were **not** happy. The redhead shifted the weight on his back and Jin moaned in protest. It was easier to carry the Japanese man than drag him, Hwoarang had reasoned. However, easier did not mean easy and no matter how he shifted Jin weighed heavily on him, making him drag his feet and trip over tree roots.

"Damn, Kazama," he muttered when Jin groaned again. "If you're gonna... complain, then... guh, maybe we should switch... fuck, you're heavy... fuck... damnit!" He stumbled again and his legs failed him, sending him sprawling into the dirt with Jin on top of him. He lied there for a blissful moment, the pain thrumming through his body, a mix of his leg and ribs and aching muscles that had had enough and refused to listen to him anymore. The darkness was all around him and as Hwoarang fought to push himself up, he felt the unfamiliar tug of despair at the back of his conscious. 'Give up,' it whispered, and he wanted to comply. 'You're so warm,' it pressed, 'So warm... you don't need a shelter, just close your eyes and you'll be fine...' He let out a deep sigh, the words seducing him, lulling his eyelids to ease shut and he began to lower himself to the ground, forgetting the struggle to climb to his feet again. The forest was as good as any shelter and Angel wasn't objecting... but something didn't sit right with him and he shook his head. The desire to simply lie down and sleep was so strong, but something at the back of his mind wouldn't let him completely give in.

Give in?

The weight on his back was heavy, pushing him into the earth, covering him like a blanket. "Damn it, Kazama..." he muttered and pushed himself over so that the heavy, unconscious man rolled off of him. He couldn't give in... he’d done so much to get there... and things were just starting to get interesting. He steeled his resolve to stand; noticing the feel of the ground under his hands. It was solid and firm, almost like... wood? He couldn't see, but he could feel the wooden slat that was lightly covered in earth. He reached out, his fingers spread, feeling along the ground until they brushed over another piece of wood that was set into the earth. It wasn't a coincidence and Hwoarang's excitement grew as he found another and another. It seemed that somebody had set pieces of wood into the ground along an incline in the path. Hwoarang crawled further along, eager to see if it led to help, but he stopped suddenly. He couldn't just leave Jin behind; he'd never be able to find him in that absolute darkness. Crawling back, Hwoarang almost missed Jin before stopping to listen for the other man's laboured breathing.

The redhead found it easier to stand with the hope of shelter lightening his heart and he lifted the unconscious man to his back. He followed the trail up the path, double and triple checked that the slats were still there by kicking them with his boots. His leg was protesting and he could feel the sickly-cold blood soaking through his jeans with every step, but those troublesome thoughts were pushed aside as Hwoarang's toe caught on something projecting higher from the ground. He lifted his leg and tapped higher with his boot; a thick, hollow noise sounded in the blackness. He reached his hand out and laughed when his fingers connected with a wall. A man-made wall in the middle of fucking-nowhere. It was just as dark as the rest of the forest, but it was almost as if heaven was shining down upon it with the angels and the trumpets and all the shit that signaled a safe haven. He reached out to run his hand along the wall, walking along its length until he felt the end where it formed a corner and he followed, still carrying Jin, feeling out the perimeter of the building before his fingers bumped into the frame of a door. He stopped his path, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he felt along the cold wooden frame. He could hear his laboured breathing, the lighter breathing of his rival as the unconscious man was still resting heavily over his shoulder and he reached out to push the barrier aside.

It was just as dark inside, but it was a bit warmer and Hwoarang barely stepped through the door before closing it behind him and setting Jin down against the wall. From his walk around the outside perimeter he knew that it was a small building with only enough room to lie down in. After fumbling about to feel what the small cabin had to offer, Hwoarang dragged Jin to the centre and sat down beside him, satisfied that they'd survive the night from the cold. In the morning he'd see how bad Jin’s injuries really were. As for himself... he reached down to feel his injured leg. He was cut, but the blood had started to coagulate around the edges, tearing away where his nails carelessly dragged. Putting pressure on it would be a good step before settling down to sleep, but he didn't have anything to tie it off with. He was wearing his jeans and... he fumbled with Jin's waistband, removing the thick tie from his training pants and wrapping it around his injured leg. He hoped Jin didn't mind that he was borrowing clothing from him – he was already wearing so little. His body was utterly spent from the fight that Angel had put it through and then from the effort of carrying his rival to some way post along the trails of Yakushima. Hwoarang would have thought that sleep would take him immediately as he lied back on the hard, wooden floorboards. Instead, his subconscious continued replaying the fight again and again in his mind's eye, pointing out his errors and focusing on the brief connection he'd made with Jin while their consciousnesses had been joined. He couldn't explain it, but it was just something he _knew_ was important. His imagination drew things towards the more dramatic and it wasn't until a good half-hour later that he finally succumbed to sleep, his body seeking out Jin's for warmth.

+++

Hwoarang's eyes drifted open hours later and he had that same terrible headache that followed him whenever he'd only managed to sleep for a handful of hours. It wasn't throbbing, but more like an incessant nagging that made thinking straight painful and annoying. It was days like that that he preferred to stay home in bed with a beer and the TV remote.

Unfortunately, he realized, forcing his vision to focus, he wasn't home. He was lying on the hard wood of a Yakushima trail cabin with his arms wrapped around the muscular and very warm body of Jin Kazama. "Kazama..." he muttered, grinding his teeth. The other man said nothing and the Korean remained in the comfortable embrace as the events of the previous evening returned to him. The fight, carrying Jin through the darkness... the both of them were damn lucky to be alive, although it would have been even luckier if they’d found a place with a proper bed. He tried stretching out his legs; the pain that suddenly shot up his thigh halted his movement. "Shit..." he rested his forehead against Jin's back, savouring the comfort of their position before pulling his arms from around the brunette's waist and moving away. He was still so tired, he squinted his eyes to see his injuries. The sunlight streaming through the cabin was sparse and it took him a moment to realize he couldn’t see shit before he hobbled over to the door to throw it open and bring in as much light as he could.

The wooden barrier swung free without a sound and the Blood Talon was left staring out past the frame at the weathered, ancient cedars that filled his view. The canopy broke in a couple places above and the sun fought to illuminate that area of the forest floor. If he’d had the luxury of appreciating the view, he might have enjoyed a rare moment of peace, perhaps even a moment of clarity where the world suddenly made sense. Other people visited Yakushima to enjoy just that type of moment, although it was wasted on the Korean who was not that type of person and, at that moment, had more pressing matters on his mind, like the injuries that he and Jin had sustained.

He hobbled back to Jin’s side, hoping that the hours they’d spent asleep hadn’t cost them more than they could afford. Jin's pallor was very pale – more so than usual – and Hwoarang grew concerned at the number of deep gashes that lined his back. He ran his fingers along the clotted and dried wounds, noting that there was nothing deep enough to be truly damaging and Jin would just have a few more scars to add to his collection. He rolled the unconscious man onto his back and inspected his chest, being sure to thoroughly search for any critical injuries. He felt along the muscular torso and thighs of his Japanese rival for anything that was obviously wrong. The darker man remained unconscious as his hands returned without any fresh blood and he double checked to make sure he hadn’t overlooked any broken bones that were jutting free. Nothing so far… he eyed the man again, suddenly noticing something troubling about Jin’s arm. Hwoarang tried to be gentle as he grabbed the other man’s wrist to pull his arm out, noting how it was difficult to push past a certain point and immediately stopped as a pained moan broke from Jin’s unconscious lips. "Probably dislocated," he muttered, grimacing as he swiveled the limb around before snapping it back into place with a loud crack. He returned the arm to a more comfortable position, feeling the anxiety churning in his guts as he couldn’t find anything else wrong and worried about his rival’s unconsciousness. “He should have woken up by now…” What he needed was some smelling salts… even cool water would work, but Hwoarang had neither and, shaking his head, he turned his attention towards his own battered body, inspecting the tie around his leg. The tear in his pants was long with dried blood caking the edges in a thick mess. He unwrapped the bandage and found a gash underneath that was swollen and red, caked with a dark, red scab. He'd have gotten stitches if he'd been anywhere else, but for the time being, the tie would suffice and he wrapped it around the wound once more to focus on his other injuries.

Bruises and scrapes covered his arms, his knee hurt but once he’d decided it wasn’t broken he ignored it. Aside from those and the cold that had seeped into his limbs, Hwoarang decided there was nothing worth worrying over. Really, Jin was the one who was still unconscious… and Jin was the one he was there to help and he’d fucked it all up. Well, not completely, although he couldn’t be sure since Angel had grown quiet. Why wasn’t she showing up to berate him? Or even tell him that – ha! – he’d done well? If he closed his eyes and concentrated on it, he could still feel a wisp of her presence deep within him, although it was so faint, almost as if she wasn’t strong enough to come up to meet him. Sighing he resigned himself to the knowledge that he was on his own for a while, with only an unconscious rival for company. He shifted, leaning over his the other man to look over his features. He’d been so different the night before, as if he’d been possessed. The angry words and even angrier expression had been etched into Hwoarang’s memory as something he’d never expected to see or hear. Devil… Hwoarang had gotten his first full taste of the entity that had a hold of Jin’s body and it had almost been too much. At the time he’d taken each move in stride, reacting and predicting every attack to keep the Devil from landing any fatal blows, but in the end Angel had needed to step in. She’d taken over his body to evenly match the dark beast in a fight that Hwoarang could only watch.

He shivered, absently brushing an errant hair from across Jin’s brow. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened. It was a rare moment where Hwoarang realized how close he’d come to death, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. He projected ultimate confidence when he picked his fights, but he wasn't stupid either and was glad to have come away from the encounter with his life… This was a new opponent and that required a new strategy. He _would_ deal with Devil again and win, even if the only thing he could do was help Jin become stronger…

He frowned when his fingers brushed against something beneath Jin’s hairline. He felt for it again, cringing as he felt along the edges, mapping the sizeable lump from where Jin had no-doubt hit his head, causing his current state. Hwoarang cautiously inspected the rest of Jin’s head, searching for anything else that was hidden behind his black mane. The strands of hair slid through his fingers as he felt along every inch of his scalp, grunting in relief when he didn’t find anything more. “You’re fucking lucky, Kazama,” he muttered, tracing the lump before absently moving up to finger the long, soft mane of black hair. “A few hours and a bag of ice will fix things. Baek knocked me out good a few times too, so… you’ll be fine,” he muttered, his mind wandering back to his master. He’d been so busy focusing on Jin that thoughts of Baek had drifted to the back of his mind; still important, but not of immediate concern. He spun several strands of hair between his fingers as he thought of the letter that Baek had written. It had definitely been his master's writing. He had no doubt that Baek would be able to find another way out of the service he’d been pressed into… but Hwoarang couldn’t stop feeling guilty for… he didn't know what. Letting that girl die? Baek had probably been told a lie to explain his student's absence and to keep him tied to his duties with the military. The lie would be unflattering at best, disgracing at worst... he just hoped the older man didn't believe it.

He sat back on his heels, ignoring the pain in his leg as he tried to come up with an idea of what to do next. Just walking out the door and onto the trail would be foolhardy and he knew it; their fight high above the island had skewed any chances of them landing even close to where they’d started. For all he knew they were on the other side of the island, and he didn’t have a map… “Fucking great,” Hwoarang muttered, withdrawing his hand from Jin’s head to finger the bandage around his own leg. They weren’t dead yet, but that could change quickly if they just sat around doing nothing. It was up to Hwoarang and he was injured. “Fuck it, I’ll be back,” he cursed and rose to his feet. “Just... wait here, Kazama. I’m going out to scout around and see if I can find help.” He chuckled to himself when Jin said nothing. “If I’m not back soon, then wait longer …” he reached up to remove the goggles from his forehead, holding them in his hand for a moment before laying them across Jin’s chest. He hoped that it would be enough to let Jin know he’d return. He hoped the other man didn’t wake up to wander off before he got back, and he hoped that he found a way out of their situation soon. “Don’t leave, Kazama,” he turned to walk out the door into the encroaching foliage of Yakushima.

+

Hwoarang felt his body warming as the sun peeked through the trees to touch his skin. He’d been walking for five minutes and had already lost sight of the cabin amid the trees. It was a beautiful day, although the Korean’s mind was too preoccupied to care. He didn’t know where he was and he couldn’t see any buildings around to find help. The forest, though beautiful, was closing in on him and he bit back the unfamiliar feeling of anxiety that churned at the back of his throat. He pressed onward, committing the trail to memory so he could find his way back. The pain in his leg became a dull ache as he moved quickly along the path and his growling stomach voiced its irritation. He ignored them both in favour of the feeling of dread at what would happen if he didn’t get back to Jin soon. All he could think of was Jin.

He didn’t know how long he’d walked for, although he could see it was early morning as he looked up to see the sun breaking through the trees and smiled tiredly at the sound of rushing water that filtered through the woods. He doubled his pace, coming to the river's edge before falling to his knees and dipping his hands into the rushing currents to bring the cold, clean water to his lips. He'd had a beer the night before and didn't realize how good plain, 'boring' water could taste. He gulped down the crystal liquid, only stopping when his throat felt like ice from the cold and he sat back on his haunches, sated. He didn't even care if his jeans were getting soaked, it was too fucking good.

He tilted his head back, red-tipped locks falling over his neck and the sun shone down with its full force, heating his body and imbuing it with new strength. He could have sat there all day, but he wanted to get back to Jin. Removing his shirt, Hwoarang dipped the garment in the cold water, soaking the fabric as a makeshift compress. What he wouldn’t give for a bottle or something to carry some water back. The cabin wasn’t too far of a trip from the stream, but he’d prefer a container to bring water to his rival, rather than carrying Jin out to the river. He sighed, looking up the stream to see if he could find anything useful. It was one of the rare times that Yakushima’s pristine nature that was so well kept by the locals and visitors alike worked against him; not a bit of garbage could be seen along the trickling waters. He looked back to the stream that churned around his legs before continuing along its path. He watched the water go onwards to disappear behind a bend of trees and rocks. The green giants filled his vision as he looked upwards and got an idea. He sloshed over to the water’s edge, grabbing the trunk of the first tree he saw and hoisted himself into the air. He pulled himself up, finding footholds on bending branches and made it a few metres up before he lost his footing and crashed to the mossy ground. “Shit!” he swore, looking up at the tree that was young by comparison to its brothers. He wandered back up the path until a large cedar caught his eye. It was wide and ancient, the branches growing out thickly like a multi-armed beast. He tested its strength, climbing onto the lower branches before continuing upwards. He made it higher the second time around and was soon perched on a thick branch high above the forest floor. Through the branches he could see that he hadn’t even reached the halfway mark for many of the trees, but didn’t need to climb higher because he could already see the blue of the ocean breaking through the greenery in several places. They were close to the perimeter of the island, and he remembered flying over the island days before when he’d first arrived. There had been a single road wrapping around the island, close to the water, as if afraid to move any further inland. Once they reached the road, they could find their way back, and it was with that happy thought in mind that he scrambled down the cedar to the forest floor and rushed off to the cabin, stopping only to visit the stream again to take another drink and dip his shirt in the water again.

Hwoarang pushed against the wooden door to the trail cabin with some trepidation at what he’d find inside. He didn’t know if he expected to find Jin dead or up and walking around, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he found that his goggles hadn’t moved and the darker Japanese man still lay prone on the ground. He walked up to his side, shirt-turned-cold compress in hand and knelt close to his head. He reached out to run a hand along the nasty lump that was hiding beneath Jin’s hairline before pressing the cold cloth to his scalp.

Hwoarang pressed a hand to Jin’s chest, holding him in place as he made a low grumbling in the back of his throat and tried to roll away. “Don’t be that way, Kazama,” he chided, keeping his hand firm until Jin stopped struggling. He withdrew his hand and stretched out on the floor, yawning and propping his head under his arms, wondering if there was anything else he could do while he waited for Jin to wake.

He closed his eyes to rest but was woken from fitful dreams a short while later as images of Dr. Yon at the mercy of that damned Chin bombarded his subconscious. He decided he’d really have to try and contact her when he got back. There were lots of things that he needed to do, but quickly added them to the backburner in his mind as he turned to his rival once again. The darker man was breathing steadily, arms relaxed at his side, Hwoarang’s goggles rising and falling with the motions of his chest. “Think I’ll take those back, sleeping beauty,” the Korean said, reaching out to grab them when Jin’s hand snapped up to grab his wrist. The Korean paused, eyes darting up to look into Jin’s eyes. They were dark and unfocused. “H-hey, that was quick,” the redhead breathed a sigh of relief while trying to extract his hand from the darker man.

Jin held his wrist in a steely grip, his onyx eyes hazy as they searched the redhead’s face for something familiar. Hwoarang met his look, trying to hold back from wrenching his hand free and calmly let Jin fully rouse. The waking state Jin was in passed quickly and those hazy, dark eyes snapped to immediate recognition before he released Hwoarang’s wrist and looked away from him.

“Kazama?” Hwoarang asked, unsure of what was going on. “Are you alright? You don’t have amnesia or anything, do you?”

“No, that won’t be a problem…” he ground out, reaching up to pull the damp cloth from his forehead. “I remember _everything_.” He tried to roll onto his side, but winced as he felt the pain in his shoulder. “Damnit…”

“What’s the matter with you, Kazama?” Hwoarang asked, all immediate worries for his rival fleeing his mind as he brought his leg up to inspect his thigh. “Here,” he said as he unwrapped the tie from his leg and handed it to Jin. “The bleeding has pretty much stopped and you’ll probably want the tie back for your pants if you don’t want them to fall down when you walk around.”

Jin looked over at the strip of cloth that was dangled beside his head, splotches of dried blood showing in a few spots on the weathered cloth before he looked past it towards Hwoarang. His eyes were hard and closed off; the uncertainty they’d held since Hwoarang’s arrival had vanished and was replaced with a cold anger.

Hwoarang draped the tie over Jin’s chest when he didn’t move to grab it and fully stretched out beside the other man. “So-!”

“You knew,” Jin cut him off, sitting up to wrap the cloth around his waistband.

“Knew what?” Hwoarang asked, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. “What I _don’t_ know is where we are-”

“I don’t care… where we are,” Jin said, wavering as he climbed to his feet. He gritted his teeth in annoyance, raising a hand to his head before balling it into a fist and looking down at the redhead who was still stretched out on the ground. “You knew about me… the whole time you knew about _it_ …” His voice was calm, almost accusatory before he dropped his fist and walked to the door.

“Hey,” Hwoarang said, springing to his feet only to falter as he landed on his injured leg. “Damn, sure, I knew about Devil. I heard he was being a bit of a pain, so I thought you’d-”

“Thought you’d what, Hwoarang?” he spun around to look Hwoarang in the eye. “Get the fight of your life?” Jin sighed, shaking his head. “I hope he was worth it…” he narrowed his eyes, hurt flashing in those dark pools before he closed them. “I need some time alone…” he turned and walked through the open door, his long strides carrying him far as Hwoarang tried to follow on his injured leg.

“Damnit, Kazama! What the hell is your problem?” he tried calling after the Japanese man, but his voice was swallowed by the greenery around him and very soon he found himself completely alone. “Well, that went well… what the hell did I do wrong?” He patted his jeans, absently searching for the cigarettes that weren’t there before looking back at the cabin. He quickly hobbled back to grab his goggles and anything else they may have left and set to finding Jin. “Finding that ungrateful bastard?” he laughed to himself as he rounded another bend in the trail to find no sign of where he’d gone. “Shit, no, that won’t be too hard at all…”

+++

Jin balled his fists as he half-ran along the winding mountain path. He felt like screaming and crying at the same time, but that raw emotion choked up in the back of his throat and he couldn’t even let it out. His mind was racing and he didn’t even look to see where the trail was leading him. He just moved, trying to get as far away from Hwoarang as he could. Alone was best right then. The thing was, he couldn’t even fathom _why_ he’d reacted like that with Hwoarang, he’d just felt something inside of him snap and he couldn’t make it stop hurting. The feeling wasn’t something he was used to, it wasn’t from Devil. It was the embarrassment at losing control and letting Devil slip through. Hwoarang had seen him weakened and he just knew that the other man would never look at him the same way again. That was what tore him up; the one person he hadn’t wanted to see him like that had been left staring down his darker half. He was weak and humiliated and after the fight, when Hwoarang had saved him, he’d lashed out at him…

He shook his head, the images of their fight playing clear and vivid in his memory. Devil had been more and more aggravating and as soon as he found Hwoarang still at his cabin, the beast had gone ballistic. Hwoarang was so damn stubborn – more like Devil than that beast would like to admit – and then everything had exploded from there. He could remember snippets of pain from his transformation and the shock he’d felt when Hwoarang had grabbed him and held him close, telling him… to fight it.

Jin smirked sullenly, kicking a tree root as he hiked up an overgrown trail. After that he’d been unceremoniously shoved to the back of his mind, left to watch as Devil finished claiming his body. He’d been angry that Hwoarang hadn’t listened to his urging to leave and he remembered the paralyzing fear that the beast would use his body to kill the Korean. He’d begun screaming for Devil to stop, only calming when he realized that they weren’t moving. The beast was just standing still, glaring down the other man and when Jin looked, he could see the change that had taken over Hwoarang as well. The redhead was clad in white, mirroring Jin’s own black clothing; right down to the wings that spread out from his back… he’d been so confused all he could think of was how angelic Hwoarang had looked. Then Devil had moved and everything went into action. Jin cursed as the rest of the fight played out in his mind’s eye, fresh and inescapable. He needed time alone, away from the other man. Jin turned to look down the trail he’d come before sighing and hanging his head; Hwoarang was nowhere in sight and he was completely lost – in every possible way. “Probably for the best…” he said to himself and as if by instinct turned his attention to the trees, seeking out the perfect one with branches low to the ground that he could climb. Nothing helped clear his mind better than finding the tallest tree around and just scaling it to the top so he could look out over the island. From that high up everything was green and filled him with a sense of peace. It brought him back to his childhood when he’d climb the trees to see how far he could get. Back then he hadn’t been trying to get away from the ground so much as he’d been trying to reach the sky.

This time he just wanted to escape from everything.

+++

The sun had already started its descent to the tree line when Hwoarang finally found Jin. He’d had a hell of a time wandering through the forest and it was a mixture of luck and some latent army training that had led him to the tree that the dark Japanese man had climbed. He didn’t know how he’d even found the guy, just that one minute he was wandering around the trails and the next he looked over and was inspired to climb a particularly attractive tree. The branches had been low and inviting and before he knew it, he could see Jin’s leg slung over the side of a very thick branch.

Jin had heard him… he must have, but still Hwoarang paused in his ascent. The other man had been really pissed off earlier – something that Hwoarang knew had to be a rarity with Jin – and he wasn’t sure if it was the right time to bother the other man. He couldn’t feel Angel in his mind to push him on and he almost started climbing down just to wait at the foot of the tree. He looked down before something in his mind snapped. Did he need Angel to push him to do what he’d promised? He was there for Jin and it wasn’t in his nature to turn away just because things might be tough. Without another thought, Hwoarang climbed the rest of the way to find a place to sit just beside his Japanese rival.

“Hi,” he said when Jin didn’t look at him.

This seemed to startle the other man out of his thoughts and he looked down, a strange look gracing his features before he closed himself once more. “How did you find me?”

“How should I know? Probably the same way I did before,” he said cryptically and left it at that.

Jin didn’t say anything.

Hwoarang pressed his back to the ancient trunk and let one of his legs dangle over the side. He puffed out his chest, and looked out beyond the leaves of the tree to see what Jin was staring so intently at. “Nice view,” he said, feeling stupid that he was making observations to fill the air between them. The comment seemed to urge an agreeance from Jin. The raven-haired man made a low sound in his throat before he sighed and turned to Hwoarang.

“Your powers,” Jin started, speaking slowly, accentuating every word. “They’re familiar… where did you get them?”

Hwoarang looked right back at him, staring up into those brown eyes that he was happy weren’t that terrible white anymore. “It was a gift from your mother,” he said matter-of-factly. “I was in some trouble and she came up to me and gave me her powers. I promised her…” he trailed off, not really sure if he should tell Jin he’d agreed to help. How would he feel if Jin showed up to help him whenever the shit hit the fan in his life? He’d never had anybody there for him before, but he knew he’d hate for anybody – especially Jin – to see him in a compromising situation like the one Jin was in. He didn’t know if the other man felt the same way and decided to keep that bit to himself. He hadn’t shown up expecting to hold his hand, he thought too much of Jin for that and he was starting to realize that what Jin thought of him mattered as well.

“Why would she do something like that?” Jin asked when Hwoarang trailed off. “I-I don’t understand… so she told you all about me… about Devil?”

“She did it because she cares about you,” Hwoarang waved off Jin’s mounting concern. “Believe me, I wasn’t her first pick, but when she told me about Devil and the shit you were going through…” he trailed off, seeing Jin’s expression falter. “Well, I can completely understand how annoying it would be. I mean, I’ve had Angel in my head rattling off every time I did something she didn’t like. Damnit, that bitch can be so pushy.”

Jin just stared at him, mouth agape.

“I know you probably don’t want my help, but Jun followed me around until I said I’d come over and find you. But just so you know, Kazama,” he said, casually bringing a knee up to his chest before adjusting his goggles. “I’m not the hand-holding type, so I’m not going to fight him for you. That’s your job. I just wanted to be around in case you wanted someone… or…”

“Thanks, Hwoarang,” Jin said, breathing a sigh and smiling for the first time since he’d woken.

Hwoarang didn’t know why that little expression put him at ease, but it lightened his mood and he returned it with a lopsided grin of his own.

“I didn’t want you to go,” Jin said suddenly, as if he’d just thought of it and wanted to get it out. “I never did, it’s just that-”

“Hey, don’t worry about the details, Kazama,” Hwoarang said when Jin couldn’t find the words. “I don’t know about you, but Angel seems to be taking a little nap right now, and if Devil is too, then that means it’s just us so you don’t have to worry. I’m gonna stick around, but if you need some time alone to deal with that fucker, then just take it. Go off and meditate or whatever it is that helps you ignore him.”

Jin nodded, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Yeah, I can’t feel him either. I think he’s sleeping… thanks…”

“Hey, don’t thank me; I haven’t done anything… yet! And don’t think that I’ve forgotten our rematch, Kazama,” Hwoarang reached out to poke Jin in the leg. “Let’s just put it on hold for now, eh? Yakushima is neutral ground so no real fighting, deal?”

“Neutral ground,” Jin rolled the words around, as if tasting them for the first time. “Sounds good,” he nodded and extended his hand to Hwoarang so the two could shake on it.

+

The two men sat there until the sun was nearly hidden behind the tree line. Jin had coaxed the story from the unusually quiet Korean, listening to how Angel’s powers had been given to him. He’d drawn the story out piece by agonizing piece until he realized just what type of situation his mother had found Hwoarang in. His heart had ached for his companion when he’d recounted the details of his last mission… he started to feel guilty for stirring the emotions in the otherwise gruff and laid-back man. He tried to backpedal, but it seemed he’d opened a floodgate and Hwoarang kept talking about how the girl, Min, had been shot by the other man on his team. Jin felt an instant dislike of the man, Chin, who’d pulled the trigger and then beat Hwoarang into a coma.

Well, Jin surmised that Hwoarang had been beaten into a coma. The other man glossed over how it had happened and Jin had to repress a smile at the thought of his rival-turned-companion losing to someone else. Not losing, actually, Chin probably fought dirty and Jin’s smile quickly turned into a sneer at the image of it happening.

Hwoarang continued on, faltering when he mentioned his mentor Baek Doo San. Jin hadn’t known, but Baek had been attacked by Ogre, just like his mother had. In that moment, Jin felt like he’d suddenly grown closer to Hwoarang, just knowing that their parents had been attacked by that monster. However he sliced it, Baek had been a father-figure to Hwoarang and Jin felt anxious just hearing about the situation the redhead had left him in. His anxiety intensified as he heard about the doctor that had helped him escape from the military hospital and that feeling melted once he heard the stories of Hwoarang’s old gang and the things he’d done there. He was sure that the redhead was holding back some information, glossing over the gory parts and omitting several pointless tales, but he stopped talking once he’d finally reached the part where he’d arrived in Yakushima and Jin knew how the rest went.

“I’m glad that Baek is still alive,” Jin started, his eyes wandering away from the other man. “I just wish that my mother had fared as well…”

“Hey, just because she’s out there in spirit form doesn’t mean she’s _dead_ , Jin!” he reached out to put a hand on the other man’s knee. “She’s not some ghost; otherwise she wouldn’t be able to follow you around and bug the shit outta me. Hell, I was fucked up when I was in a coma, maybe something similar happened to her and she’s just outside her body!”

Jin tried to smile but failed, feeling depressed with the thought that Jun could be in any type of situation like that. He felt the other man squeeze his leg and he forced a smile. “I know. I just wish I could see her to ask… I haven’t spoken to her since I was fifteen and so much shit has happened since then…” he trailed off, his mind racing to his grandfather’s betrayal before he shook his head and pushed the thought from his mind. The fact that she’d approached Hwoarang was very comforting, if only to know that she was still with him. “I’m glad that she picked you, though,” he said, changing his mood in a flash before looking out to the sky again. “It’s getting late…”

“Good,” Hwoarang said, rolling off his branch to find a foothold on another beneath him. “Let’s climb down. While I was looking for your ass I found a path that leads to the main road.”

“Great, maybe we can find out where we are…” Jin said hopefully as he passed Hwoarang.

“I did see a sign that said something like Miyanoura Port being a few kilometers from here…” Hwoarang cursed as his foot slipped and he fought to hold onto a branch. He watched as Jin swiftly found the right footing and climbed down with the grace of a monkey.

“What?! Oh, crap,” Jin exclaimed as he hit the ground.

“What?” Hwoarang asked, jumping to land with a hollow thump beside him.

“Miyanoura is on the north side of the island,” Jin said with a heavy sigh. “We landed on the wrong side.”

+++

Hwoarang watched the Japanese man hunch his shoulders in an almost comical way before following him down the trail. “Well, at least we’re still on the right island!” he piped up, trying to keep from laughing as he followed Jin down the trail to the main road. He could tell that Jin was feeling better, and he was glad that he’d been able to get past the awkward morning-after encounter without anything more than a few harsh words and hours wandering alone through the forest. He hoped that was the end of it too. He sighed happily as Jin led the way through the darkening woods. His first fight against Devil hadn’t gone exactly as he’d planned – Angel taking over and fighting _for_ him definitely not being in his plan – and while he enjoyed a good brawl, he hoped there wouldn’t be anything like it in the near future. He was there to help Jin, and while he wasn’t sure how to do it, he had a good feeling he was on the right path.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin and Hwoarang find a safe harbour for the night before deciding on a game plan for how to get back to the South end of the island where Jin lives. Of course, nothing is simple when either man is concerned and what could have been a simple bus ride turns into the beginnings of an adventure.

After an hour of hiking through the woods, Hwoarang finally broke through the brush and out onto the single road that ran along the perimeter of Yakushima island. Jin followed and together the two men climbed onto the asphalt surface that was lit by sparse street lights and a waning sun. Hwoarang stretched languidly, as if the worst of their trip was behind them. Jin looked up and down the road, wishing he could join his friend in his optimism. “Where is this sign you saw that pointed towards the Miyanoura port?”

“I don’t know,” Hwoarang said, looking around. “But I think it was pointing that way,” he motioned down in one direction before walking forward.

“Are you sure?” Jin asked, falling into line beside the Korean. “I’m not too familiar with this side of the island…”

“Of course I’m sure, Kazama,” Hwoarang said, wrapping an arm around Jin to roughly pull the brunette along with him. He held the other man tightly to him to make sure that he followed his lead, only relaxing his grip when he was sure that Jin would follow. The two walked along in silence. Hwoarang stopped to massage his injured leg once or twice, although every time he tried to complain about it, Jin would bring up the strange pain he felt in his arm and this would usually shut him up. “Damnit, Kazama, you’re just like Angel. She’s all no-nonsense too. Why can’t you just listen to me complain for a bit, huh? Neither of you are any fun!”

Jin arched an eyebrow at the comment.

“I guess I can’t get away from her, even while she’s sleeping,” Hwoarang grumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he hurried his pace to catch up with the other man.

“Yeah, and you like to complain just like Devil does… only you’re not as angry. Guess I can’t get away from him either?” Jin commented flatly, the weight of the statement lightened by the smirk he tried to hide.

“Don’t compare me to that asshole,” Hwoarang said, reaching back to grab the pack of cigarettes that weren’t in his pocket. “Shit…”

Jin shook his head and they trudged onward, the sun slowly slipping away and the forest beside them growing darker by the minute. “Hwoarang…” Jin asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. “Would you still have come if Devil wasn’t an issue?”

“What, you mean if it was just me on my feet and the couple bucks in my pocket?” Hwoarang asked with a look that asked if he were crazy. He made sounds of thought before reaching out to slug Jin in the shoulder. “Damnit, Kazama, you know I would have. I was always after _you_ anyways.” He wanted to add in a comment about their fight, but the words suddenly felt weighted on his tongue and he swallowed them, rather than let them out. It was starting to be about more than his rematch. His feet faltered, leading him to walk that much closer to Jin. He balled his fists as he fought the urge to wrap his arm around the other man and grit his teeth at the ridiculousness of that urge, forcing his hands to stay weighted and heavy by his side. All he could do was continue to walk next to Jin.

Neither man said another word, until they both let out noises of relief as the lights of the large town of Miyanoura glowed in the distance as they rounded a bend in the road. They walked onward, noticing the buildings that sprang up on either side of the road before they found themselves in the heart of a large port town. The streets were still bustling with activity even that late into the evening and both men’s eyes grew big at the myriad of shops and vendors that lined the main street. As they continued on they found secondary roads that branched off and shot out towards the forest, and down towards the beach. “So, where to?” Hwoarang asked, his eyes darting along the lines of vendors that were grilling up all sorts of delicious smelling things. His belly grumbled loudly.

“First we find a place to stay,” Jin said, walking towards one of the side-streets that led towards the water.

Hwoarang was about to complain about how hungry he was, but decided that finding a comfortable place to sleep would be better. He could feel the exhaustion seeping through his body, and when he stopped moving he’d be done for the night. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

Jin didn’t say anything, but marched purposefully forward and Hwoarang followed behind, crashing into the other man moments later as Jin stopped in front of a small building that, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a little bed and breakfast. The flickering sign in the window proclaimed that there was still some vacancy, as well as a pool and water-front view. The brunette turned to his companion, tilted his head towards the building before shrugging his shoulders as if to say, ‘this will do, won’t it?’

The Korean didn’t get a chance to reply, Jin led him inside to speak with the staff and they were handed a key and ushered up to the third-floor. The hallway was short, with only two doors on either side showing a good deal of privacy for the occupants of either room. The pair walked to the first door and Jin inserted the ornate key into the lock and turned the knob.

Hwoarang pursed his lips, emitting a low whistle as he peered into the room. “Pretty nice, Kazama,” he said as he marched inside and flopped back on the large king-sized bed at the centre. There was a large floor-length window that opened onto a private balcony and the Korean lazily looked over the other amenities, noting that there wasn’t a television, though it hardly mattered because he was only worried about two things; food and sleep.

Jin walked up to the bathroom, peering inside before turning to Hwoarang. “I _really_ want a shower,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head and wincing after he pulled the torn clothing free.

“You alright?” Hwoarang quickly asked, hopping up from the bed and swearing as he landed on his injured leg.

“I’m fine, my shoulder is just sore,” Jin said, looking over at Hwoarang with equal concern.

“Ah, that’s because I had to snap your shoulder back into its socket while you were unconscious. You should be fine,” he pressed against his leg. “Heh, I think you might have nicked the bone a bit,” he almost laughed before sitting back on the bed and smiling through gritted teeth at his Japanese rival who was staring at him with wide eyes of concern. “I’m fine, Kazama, just really hungry. Get your shower and then we can get something to eat. I’ll worry about washing up when we get back.”

Jin sighed and nodded, turning to the bathroom and leaving Hwoarang by himself. The moment the door had shut behind him, Hwoarang was on his feet again and opening the door to the hallway. They were in dire straights for supplies and he had just the idea of where to pick up some more.

+++

Jin turned the shower to hot and stood under the spray until he was as red as a lobster. He loved bathing in waterfall that fed the stream by his home, but nothing beat a steaming-hot shower after the kind of fight he’d endured with Hwoarang. He’d lost track of how long he’d been under the spray, but when the heat started ebbing from the water, he decided he’d been there long enough. Hwoarang would kill him for using all the hot water, but he didn’t care. His shoulder was feeling much better, and it was with that sleepy, comfortable demeanour that he stepped from the bathroom to find Hwoarang set up behind a group of items strewn across the bed.

Items that weren’t there when he’d gone for his shower.

“Hwoarang?” he asked, tightening the towel around his waist. “What are you doing?”

“I found supplies,” the Korean said by way of explanation. “I didn’t know what we’d need, so I grabbed a bit of everything.”

“What do you mean ‘grabbed a bit of everything’? Where did you get this… stuff?” he asked, reaching out to pick up a shirt that advertised the Hardrock Café in New York City in a big, obnoxious logo.

“Umm… the laundry room was unlocked?” Hwoarang answered questioningly. “I’ll return the stuff we don’t use, but I figured that we’re on a budget, right? C’mon, I don’t feel like wearing rags; these jeans have seen better days, and my tank is ruined!” he pulled the white fabric from his chest to better show the blood smears and tears. “I just grabbed some stuff to wear right now, nobody is going to miss this shit.”

Jin couldn’t repress the grin that crept up into his face and he shook his head, reaching out to pull a comfortable-looking pair of black pants from the pile. The linen was soft and well-worn and he had to admit he was grateful for something else to wear other than his filthy training pants.

Hwoarang quickly splashed some water on his face to clear the blood and grime before finding something to wear and the two men walked back towards the lights of the main street. Jin’s stomach had joined Hwoarang’s in a chorus and the fighters had both agreed that food was the next thing on the agenda. The main drag was bustling with people and vendors the further they traveled towards the harbour.

“Shit, I didn’t think there’d be a place like this on the island,” Hwoarang muttered as he eyed a street vendor’s wares. ‘Fresh Grilled Flying Fish’ was scrawled in large yellow Kanji along a sign with the same written in English just below it. The sign was nailed to the wall outside a small restaurant which also had a crude drawing of a fish with wings and a smiling man in a boat with what looked like a butterfly net.

The Korean looked between Jin and the restaurant and then back to Jin again. “Hey Jin, can we…? Hey!”

Jin was standing in front of a street vendor’s booth where a man was cooking up noodles on a grill. Hwoarang looked from his rival to the grill and then back to the flying fish. “But Jin!” he protested, turning back to really lean into the other man. “Fish!”

Jin looked from the doorway that Hwoarang was all-but jumping up and down in front of and the ramen noodles he’d been considering. The ramen vendor gave him a sour look, no-doubt unhappy that potential customers were being won over by the restaurant. Jin looked back to his friend and shrugged, walking over to the shop advertising flying-fish. “I don’t know if we can afford it,” he said, patting his pocket for whatever money he had.

“I’ve got money!” Hwoarang said, pulling a fistful of bills from his pocket.

“Hwoarang…” Jin said warningly, eyeing the money. “Where’d you get all that cash? I hope you didn’t steal-”

Hwoarang rolled his eyes. “Who leaves their cash in with their laundry? This is the money you gave me!” he beamed, waving the bills about before turning to the man behind the counter and placing an order for the both of them. “You were too preoccupied with getting me to leave you alone that you didn’t notice that you’d handed me half your savings!”

Jin patted his pockets again, realizing that it was a good thing he’d given the other man so much money; he was broke. He approached the counter, standing beside his rival-turned-companion to watch the chef at work. It was impressive to see the flying fish, still complete with their wide fins and impressive tails, battered and cut up. It was all done out in the open and he had to admit that the show was well-worth the higher price. It was one of the signature dishes of the town, after all. Hwoarang was getting too excited for his food, Jin could feel his energy radiating from him and he began feeling excited by proximity.

The Korean was quick to snatch the meal from the gentleman behind the counter, leaving Jin to give his thanks before following him into the café to find a place to sit. He wandered past the tables and through a doorway, taking a seat at a small, secluded table that was on a patio to the side of the building. Jin sat opposite, looking around at the scenery and seeing why Hwoarang had picked it. Their vantage point gave a great view of the street, as well as the sky and when he turned in his seat he could see the water in the distance, rolling on the horizon behind a smattering of buildings. He turned back to the redhead who was already pulling his fish apart with his chopsticks and gave him a wry smile. “So you get a nice sea-side view and I get to look at the street?”

“I’m the tourist, Kazama,” he said, licking some sauce from the chopstick. “Do you think I’d see things like this back home?”

“Hmm, I guess not,” Jin mumbled, digging into the soft, flaky meat of his own meal. He brought the first bite to his lips and gently placed it on his tongue, letting the flavour properly wash over his taste buds before he began chewing. Hwoarang, he doubted, bothered to taste his food with the way he inhaled it. Less than ten minutes later Hwoarang had abandoned his chopsticks and was picking at the remnants of his fish with his fingers, ripping the battered fins off and popping them into his mouth. Jin was twice-grateful for the Korean’s choice of seats since nobody could see them out there. He bowed his head, focusing on properly tearing a strip of fish from the bone, though failing as it flaked away.

“Hey,” Hwoarang reached across to touch his arm. “Are you… he’s still not there, right?”

“No,” Jin shook his head, setting his chopsticks down. “Like I said, he’s worn out and weak. I won’t feel him for a few days… maybe a week…”

“Then why the long face, Kazama?”

“When he gets back…”

“Hold it. Worry about dinner. He’ll come back no matter how much you worry, right? So what’s the point?” Hwoarang put his hands behind his head and made a show of stretching backwards.

“Well… but-”

“No buts, Kazama. Stop worrying. Do you think I got where I am by worrying about tomorrow? We’ll deal with it when it gets here. Now, I’m still feeling kinda hungry… maybe some noodles or… hey, do they have a dessert menu here?” He began looking around and Jin rolled his eyes, propping his elbow on the table to rest his head and watch him.

“Fine,” he said after a moment, still lazily resting his jaw in his palm. “But if you spend all our money on food, then we really _will_ have to worry tomorrow.” He nudged Hwoarang in the leg with his toe before picking up his chopsticks, deciding to try eating his fish again. He was ready to give up and throw the wooden utensils away. His comment about their finances seemed to have little effect on the Korean, who quickly sprang from his seat and hurried back into the restaurant.

Jin stared down at his meal, nearly half-finished, and then back to the doorway that Hwoarang had disappeared behind. He sighed heavily, set his chopsticks down and picked up the battered fish with his hands, ripping the pieces off with his fingers and bringing the succulent morsels to his mouth. The batter crunched between his teeth and he understood why the other man had torn into his plate with the ferocity of a wild dog. It tasted better when eaten with ones hands. He lost himself in his dish, cracking a fin between his teeth as Hwoarang returned to sit heavily in the seat across from him.

“No dessert?” Jin asked, trying to regain his composure, but it was too late. Hwoarang’s eyes were dancing as he looked him over, and Jin tried to ignore the amused expression on his face. He stared at the other man, challenging whatever he was thinking. Had he expected him to eat the damn meal any other way?

Hwoarang stared back and Jin tried to maintain the blank, unreadable front that he usually wore to close everyone else out, but something was different. He just couldn’t seem to completely shut himself off from the other man. The way that Hwoarang was looking at him was unnerving, penetrating. Jin didn’t know when it had started, but they’d become locked in a staring contest, and gazing into the depths of the other’s amber eyes left him feeling exposed. His pupils were dilated, he noticed, shadowed by his dark brows that twitched with thoughts Jin couldn’t quite see in the swirling depths. It was not unlike before their fights where he observed the other man’s whole body to read his intentions and movements; but being that close, and peering into his eyes was quite a powerful feeling that Jin suddenly felt overwhelmed by, and he turned his head away. “We’ll have to figure out how to get back to Onoaida,” he said to fill the air that suddenly felt so heavy around him. “This is the north end of the island, and my place is on the south… I can check into the bus schedule to find out when the next one leaves to take us home.”

He chanced a glance back at Hwoarang who was having trouble looking at him, a light blush across his attractive features before he shook his head and reached out to grab at Jin’s fish. “Sounds good, Jin,” he said, tearing off the last fin and popping it in his mouth. “Mmmm, yummy,” he licked his fingers and Jin was mesmerized by the action before he cleared his throat and averted his eyes.

“Yes, well, the busses never run at regular intervals, so it’ll be a pain in the ass…” Jin tried to stay on topic, unsure of why he was having to fight to speak properly.

“Why don’t we just cut through the centre of the island ourselves, then?” Hwoarang asked.

That brought a genuine smirk to Jin’s face that made him want to laugh out loud. “Well, I’d like to just spend a few days hiking through the island to get down there, but I don’t know if you could handle it, Hwoarang.”

He gave in to the urge to laugh when Hwoarang’s eyes went wide and his mouth moved, no words coming right away. “W-what?! C’mon, Kazama! Don’t just _assume_ that I can’t take it!”

“Hwoarang,” Jin laughed. “We don’t have all the time in the world. The bus is faster. I’d love to go for a hike through the forest, but it would take too long and the bus would take less than a day.”

Hwoarang shot him the dirtiest look he’d ever seen and folded his arms over his chest. “How long would it take to hike through there?”

Jin looked up to think, “Well, it would take me about three days-”

“Three days it is!” he pushed his hand out between them to shake on it. “You said you’ve got a week till that bastard comes back, so three days won’t even cut it close. C’mon, Jin, I hate waiting at bus terminals for the next ride. Let’s do it!”

Jin looked at Hwoarang with an appraising eye, seriously considering if it was a good idea as he reached out to take the other man’s hand. What Hwoarang had seen of the island so far was remotely civilized and he doubted that the Korean had ever been dropped into a situation that could compare to the harsh conditions that made up the interior of the island. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of foreboding at his agreeance to cut through the island to get home. Devil may not have been there to bother him, but that didn’t mean that Hwoarang alone wouldn’t drive him crazy.

+

Jin followed behind his companion as they returned to their room feeling more tired than usual and just wanting to crawl into bed for a nice, deep sleep. That thought left his mind as he was reminded handful of the clothes that Hwoarang had alleviated from the laundry room. “We’ll have to get some supplies before we go,” he said, looking down at the bed draped in other people’s clothing.

Hwoarang looked down at the shorts that he’d stolen and the trusty tank top that showed off his upper body. “Hey, I picked some winners here, Kazama. What’s the matter with what you’ve got on?” he turned, pulling on the corner of Jin’s shirt for emphasis.

“The problem _is_ ,” Jin lectured, moving the clothes off the bed. “This stuff is touristy and probably won’t last the trip. We need something a little more-”

“Fine,” Hwoarang cut him, tossing a pair of socks over his shoulder as he walked off to the bathroom. “If you’re gonna bitch, I’ll steal something better.”

“No stealing!”

“It’s alright, Kazama. I saw some nice shorts for you…” he ducked inside the room, the door blocking the shirt that flew his way.

Jin ground his teeth, trying harder than he should have to frown before he broke and a smile spread across his face. He didn’t know why, but he found himself infected by Hwoarang’s good moods more often. Perhaps since Devil had worn himself out with that final laser blast, the Mishima heir had finally managed a quiet moment to himself in his thoughts and he’d found himself thinking more and more of his uninvited, yet incredibly welcome, guest.

He absently brought his hand up to feel his wounds through the fabric of his shirt, his mind wandering to the fight and the injuries that Hwoarang had sustained at his hand. The other man wouldn’t admit it – except to complain – but Jin could see the limp that he tried to disguise and knew that he was in pain. Jin shook his head, pulling the shirt up and over his muscular frame as he searched around in the closet for a blanket to curl up on the floor with; Hwoarang was hurt, he should have the bed to himself. He didn’t mind sharing sleeping quarters or even curling up on the same mat as the other man, but he had a feeling that Hwoarang’s comfort levels were somewhere outside sharing a bed with his rival. It was just as well, he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor.

The raven-haired man rested his head against the pillow and looked out the floor-length window, taking in the waning moon and he was reminded of a couple nights back when he’d been flying towards it. He closed his eyes, the entire incident too painful to remember. Instead he focused his senses to the water splashing down in the shower, the sound a tame roar, barely muffled by the thin door and his mind wandered to the man inside. Red hair, grown out to a beautiful dark brown, but he couldn’t help but still think of Hwoarang as a redhead. His thoughts had been on him even before he’d heard him fall into the river. Now that Hwoarang was there… Jin couldn’t go ten minutes without thinking of him. It was insane. No wonder Devil had been so agitated, and now that the beast was sleeping… Jin shuddered. The memory of their fight was running over and over in his mind with the fiery Korean looking at him so intensely… Jin was finding himself thinking of the other man with the same intensity. Even his frustrations with the true reason for him being there didn’t dampen the feeling, the two just co-mingled in the back of his mind, a volatile mix that he found both angering and exhilarating to experience.

The roar of the shower dragged on, adding the right background noise and Jin found his eyes drifting shut to the sound, the roar boiling hot inside his imagination. Unbidden he could see the water rushing hot over Hwoarang’s body, matching the intensity of the other man, his red locks that had grown to his shoulders, sticking to his neck. Jin shivered, the sound of the shower changing as the water was shut off and he listened to sloppy, wet footsteps travel from the bathroom to just behind his head.

Jin didn’t move. He was mesmerized by the sound of his heart pounding so loudly in his ears, and the feeing of water dripping hotly on his back. He cracked his eye to look up at the other man, all feelings of trepidation leaving him as his gaze fell upon the small, pink towel that had been wrapped around his waist. Instantly, Jin forgot the flurry of thoughts that had been thrumming through his mind as he burst out laughing. “Nice towel,” he blurted out, enjoying the Korean’s embarrassed look as he folded his arms over his chest and frowned through a furious blush.

“Shut up, it’s the only one left after _you_ had your shower!” he leaned over Jin again, his hair falling forward and dripping water along him. “More importantly, what the fuck do you think you’re doing on the floor?”

“Ah, trying to sleep?” Jin offered, rising to sit and stare up at the other man, his eyes still full of mirth. That rare emotion that felt so good inside him.

Hwoarang huffed and turned away, glancing over his shoulder before digging through the clothes pile for something to sleep in. He favoured his injured leg, being mindful of the bandages that wrapped up and around his _very_ exposed thigh. “You’re still hurt, Jin. It’s the last comfortable bed you’ll get to sleep in for a while, so this is your last chance…” he pulled out a clean pair of cotton shorts that were just a little too short, but he shrugged and stepped into them, discarding the towel before turning to stare at Jin again with his hands on his hips. “Hey, I don’t go offering for people to sleep with me too often, so take your chance while you can…” he trailed off mid-sentence, his eyes going wide and his face going even redder than it had previously. “That is, I usually sleep alone… I _like_ sleeping alone! It’s just… fuck it, Kazama. Last chance, I want this bed for myself!”

Jin’s laugher had died down, though he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face as he watched Hwoarang fumble with his words while wearing shorts so small that Heihachi would have smacked him for even thinking of wearing them. It was just… he never expected to see Hwoarang that way… ever. It took the edge off his previous thoughts when coupled with the fact that he was climbing to his feet to hop into bed with the other man. “You’re right. We’ll need our strength for the hike,” he said as he slid under the sheet, grateful for the spacious size of a king mattress. Hwoarang stayed on his side and Jin reasoned that it was just like sleeping in separate beds. So long as neither of them liked to move around in their sleep, they would be fine. After a minute, Hwoarang’s breathing dropped off to a low, steady rhythm; though Jin’s took a little longer to reach that blissful state of oblivion. His mind was still focused on that abrasive redhead that he just couldn’t seem to get rid of and how he was grateful for that one fact.

+++

Jin found himself standing deep in the woods of Yakushima forest. He didn’t recognize the path he was standing on, nor the trees that formed shadowed walls along the edges, almost as if they’d been cleared away to make a perfect path straight through the brush. That thought alone should have bothered him, though the Japanese fighter found that he expected to be there.

He eyed the forest border carefully, sensing strange phantoms weaving between the thick tree trunks. Their voices were familiar, though they faded before he could properly hear what they said, their shadowy figures flitting between the trees, never leaving the safety of the undergrowth. He frowned as he stared up at the black sky above his head that was oddly void of stars; their brightness suddenly fading as a brilliant moon pierced the horizon, washing the night in a dark indigo. He frowned, the glowing orb was frozen in place, barely moving – or moving so slowly – that Jin was sure it had stopped. There was something odd and disconcerting about it, despite the fact that only a sliver was visible from behind the horizon. The white, sun-washed surface seemed to shimmer before it changed, the illusion cracking and the sliver was stained red, almost as if it had been drenched in blood. He blanched at the sight, having seen a hunter’s moon before, although he knew that this was not the case. His eyes grew wide as he looked upon that face that was a just peeking out from the ground.

Jin suddenly found it impossible to breathe properly, the air feeling thick in his lungs, his legs locked to position and he felt the electricity crackling within that sanguine body that clung to its place just beyond his vision. The lightning in his own body responded to the call and he fought to will it down, never taking his wide-eyes from that terrible face. He was trapped, like a deer in headlights and he completely understood the message that Devil was trying to send to him: he was coming back. As slowly as the moon was moving, it _was_ moving, and eventually Jin would have to confront that beast again and the thought terrified him. What if he couldn’t do it? What if he just didn’t get strong enough by that point? Trapped inside the dream that the black beast was forcing upon him, Jin felt an overwhelming sense of desperation washing over him. The emotion radiating from the blood moon and directly affecting him, telling him he’d never be good enough. Wasn’t worthy… Jin started as he felt something on his shoulder. Heavy and kneading, though he couldn’t pry his eyes away from that awful face peeking over at the horizon, watching everything he was doing. He’d been able to repress him before, but somehow he was getting – he started again, that pressure on his shoulder increasing and he could have sworn that he heard a voice cursing.

“Heh,” the voice exhaled in his ear and he felt his adrenaline jump through his veins. It was somehow familiar and the mere utterance caused Devil’s spell to waver. “Those fuckers are gonna smash together if they keep going… well, crash really _slowly_ , anyways…” the voice continued conversationally and Jin felt the pressure again, this time accompanied by am arm that snaked around his back, pulling him against a solid body that he couldn’t really see but just knew was there. He was spun around until he’d turned his back towards that awful moon and he was faced with another sight. On the horizon behind him was another celestial body peeking across, only this was a brilliant white sun that was a mirror image to the moon’s position, climbing opposite until the two would eventually meet in the sky overhead. Was that the crash that… _Hwoarang_ had mentioned? He couldn’t see anything but the sun, though he could still sense the other man’s presence close by. Not choking him off, yet near enough that he could draw comfort from it – from _him_. He felt his anxiety over Devil’s impending resurrection break like a dike, bringing a comforting wave of relaxation that washed over him and the landscape wavered as Devil’s spell was broken and he drifted off into dreams that were his own.

+++

Hwoarang woke with a start, jolted from the dream that had felt so tactile, although the meaning was lost on him the moment he opened his eyes. The feeling of ease was replaced by annoyance when he shivered and realized that the sheet that he and Jin had been sharing was expertly wrapped around his rival’s body, leaving none for him.

“Hey,” he reached over; trying to pull a corner out from under Jin’s body, but that was met with a grunt and Jin holding the linen closer to himself. “Ch,” Hwoarang frowned, half-wishing he’d let Jin stay on the floor.

After a brief struggle, he managed to detangle Jin’s legs from the sheets and pull a healthy portion over to his side of the bed again, putting distance between him and the other man. He didn’t even want to think about how easy he found it to sleep in the same bed as Jin. He eyed his raven-haired bedmate, feeling sleep tug at his sub-conscious and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Jin had expertly traversed the no-mans land between them and was sleeping entirely too close to Hwoarang for his machismo to tolerate. He tried pushing the dark-haired man away, but the separation was short-lived, and the two found themselves closer than before. Hwoarang resigned himself to sleeping against the other man and awkwardly turned Jin around so that at least his back was the part touching him. He leaned heavily against the warm body, deciding that it wasn’t cuddling, and he actually found it very comfortable before he shut his eyes, his mind drifting back to his dreams of sunrise and eager angels.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang follows Jin along the trail through Yakushima. He knew he was prepared to tackle the excursion and any discomforts that would arise, though he was unprepared for the unexpected thoughts about his rival

Jin Kazama woke after a particularly restful sleep. He sighed happily, fragments of a pleasant dream flittering away as he brushed the sleep from his eyes and stretched, sinking his head into the pillow. He let his arms flop out around him, luxuriating in the size of the bed that he had all to himself. He paused, turning that thought over in his mind, as if the weight of it wasn’t quite right. ‘ _Oh, that’s right, Hwoarang used to be here…_ he mused, rolling over to fully spread himself across the king-sized mattress. A second later he bolted upright in bed, fully realizing where they were and the things Hwoarang had done the last time he’d been left alone. He looked around the empty room for his companion. “Hwoarang?” he asked a little louder than he’d intended, but there was no reply. “Shit,” he muttered, slinging his feet over the edge of the bed and padding over to the door, the stolen pants hung loosely on his hips and he tightened the drawstring as he glanced out the window and his annoyance melted away.

The brightness of the sun was piercing the sky, lighting everything beneath its influence. The sea-front view that the bed & breakfast had boasted of was well-claimed. The yard petered down towards a private beach, the dark sand mingling with the bamboo grass before it raced out to meet the lapping shoreline. He could barely contain his excitement and resolved to look for his friend to share the moment. He spun around, his excited energy colliding with that of Hwoarang as the redhead picked that moment to throw the door open with a bang and march in.

The man was a whirlwind of activity, kicking the door shut with his foot as he hopped over to the bed to throw a new pile of things down onto the sheets. More clothes, Jin saw, as well as a few bottles of water and… things. “Hwoarang, where…?” he began, not really wanting to know the answer.

“Alright,” the redhead started once he’d spread the items out to his satisfaction so that they could see them. “I know that you don’t like me stealing from poor tourists-”

“I don’t like you stealing at all,” Jin cut him off.

“-So I went for a walk down the beach and I found this five-star resort,” Hwoarang continued as if Jin hadn’t said anything at all. “It was really swanky, the type of place where you go into the bar, get a beer and they don’t ask for money. Something about charging it to my room,” he waggled his eyebrows and Jin felt his resolve to stay mad waver. “So I was sitting there, enjoying my free beer and I was talking to this couple from Argentina. Their Japanese sucked, but I managed to figure out that there’s this store right up the road that sells supplies, so I stocked us up with some new shit. I needed new underwear, anyways, and that is something I _don’t_ wear second-hand!”

“Hwoarang!” Jin frowned before he realized what he’d said. “Wait, you bought this?” he looked again at the heap of stuff on the bed. Everything had tags and he felt his shoulders relax once he realized that Hwoarang had bought it legitimately. “Oh,” he muttered, reaching out to look through the things. He had to admit that Hwoarang seemed to know what to buy as he eyed two of everything; water bottles, backpacks, sweatshirts, shorts, shirts, tin cups and even a small, portable stove.

“Everything we need,” the Korean continued, sitting on the bed in a way that radiated how proud he was of himself. “I know all about survival training and the shit that goes into it, so I prepared us. I’ll prove that I can handle your little island, Kazama!” he chimed, his eyes taking on the familiar competitive glint.

“Maybe not so little,” Jin reached out to grab at a pair of red shorts with a black design up the side. “I hope you saved some money for food…”

That caused the Korean to deflate a bit and Jin grinned, rolling his eyes. “Good thing I didn’t give you all the money, then,” he reached into the bedside table to withdraw the last of the money that he’d managed to take from Hwoarang the previous evening, showing it before tucking it into his pocket.

The glint returned to Hwoarang’s eye as he looked from Jin to the window and then back again. “Wanna train?” he asked, his voice belying his excitement.

Jin looked over, a jolt of anticipation rushing through his body. “Sure,” he nodded.

They quickly changed and headed down to the beach. It was still fairly early in the morning and there was nobody else to bother them. It had been several days since their first morning training back in the clearing by Jin’s home, though after the events that had transpired between them, it felt more like weeks than days separated them and it was refreshing to return to something simple and familiar. The two men faced off in the soft sand, their stances more relaxed somehow, less tense. Both men were truly fighting on their own without any external influences and it translated to an easygoing training session, neither man truly focused on coming out on top, but rather working their own moves to perfection against the other.

Jin observed that Hwoarang didn’t hold anything back. He focused mostly on his kicks, swinging his foot as high as he could and Jin took the opportunity to duck down and lash out with his own foot, catching him off guard. The brunette smiled as his foot impacted against the redhead’s thigh, causing his leg to buckle and Hwoarang dropped to one knee. Jin laughingly rolled to the side, intending to spring up and launch himself forward, although he miscalculated the softness of the sand and he ended up falling on his face instead.

Hwoarang stopped struggling to climb to his feet when he saw his opponent floundering on the beach and all seriousness he’d held during their short session seemed to leave him. He smiled widely and threw himself forward, landing in the sand beside Jin. He shifted his position so that he was lying parallel to the other man and lazily propped his head up, waiting for him to stop struggling.

Jin grunted in annoyance as he found his foot had caught in the sand and was bracing himself for Hwoarang’s attack as he saw from the corner of his eye as the other man launched himself through the air. He turned to face him as that irritatingly-endearing Korean landed beside him and proceeded to shuffle about until he was staring right at him. Jin frowned, “What?”

“I’m done,” Hwoarang announced, rolling into his back.

“But I’ve barely worked up a sweat,” Jin complained, sitting up and casually wrapping an arm around his knee. “You know, if you get lazy with your training you won’t last long at the tournam- ow!” his taunt was cut short as Hwoarang reached out to pinch the underside of his thigh. “What was that for?!” Jin cried, a bright flush rising to his cheeks and he tried to repay the attack, but found it difficult to worm his way under Hwoarang’s legs and settled for pinching the redhead’s side. “You can be so _childish_ sometimes, you know that?”

“Hey!” Hwoarang flinched. “That’s all part of my style,” he said, rolling out of the way of another pinching attack. “Besides, who is the one trying to tickle me right now? Damn, and you call _me_ childish?”

Jin frowned, he was having fun! Why’d Hwoarang have to ruin it by calling it childish? Then he grinned, “You’re ticklish?”

Hwoarang’s eyes grew wide as Jin tried to poke him again and he leapt to his feet and sprang several metres down the beach with the grace of a man running for his life. The two fighters raced around in the sand for a bit, venturing into the water to cool down before returning to their room to shower and pack for the trip. Hwoarang mentioned something about not seeing a proper shower again until he bugged Inoue at the hot springs again, which was a few days off. Jin brought up the idea of just taking the bus and navigating the complicated schedule, but the other man seemed to have his mind set on proving that he could trek through the island interior and wouldn’t hear any change to those plans. As if to cement his stance on the issue he insisted on dragging Jin back to the supply store once they’d finished checking out of the bed and breakfast.

“The name implies free food and I’m not leaving without some!” the redhead exclaimed once they’d showered and dressed in some of Hwoarang’s pilfered apparel. The breakfast room was cozy with a few other groups of people sitting about. There was an open balcony that overlooked the beach with several tables – already occupied – set up for guests to eat their meal while enjoying the view.

‘ _Damn, we must have given them a show…_ ’ Jin thought back to their training but then dismissed the tinge of embarrassment. They hadn’t done anything worth being embarrassed over, but he still bristled at the idea that someone was watching their time together.

Hwoarang had made a beeline towards the buffet table and Jin quickly chose a quaint table at the corner of the room where they could talk privately. People started gathering as he waited, and by the time Hwoarang returned, Jin was a little perturbed. “Took you long enough, now all the good stuff is taken.”

“Sorry,” Hwoarang scratched his head and set his plate down. “I guess this place caters to a lot of foreigners, so they’ve got a bit of everything to eat from all over. I didn’t know what I wanted…”

“So you took a bit of everything?” Jin offered with a knowing grin. “Well, I know what I want, so I’ll be quick.” With that the Japanese fighter stood and walked purposefully towards the buffet, ignoring the looks he was receiving from some guests at one particular table. By the time he returned, the youngest of a family of three was outright staring back at his table where Hwoarang was seated. The child was trying to get his mother’s attention, though the woman appeared to be engrossed in whatever magazine she was reading. “Mommy, that man over there is wearing daddy’s shirt that you hate so much, and that one is wearing your pants!”

Jin saw the child pointing at him and he cursed as he rushed as calmly as he could to grab Hwoarang by the arm and casually make it seem as if they’d decided to eat their meal in their room. By the time they were in the hallway, they’d collapsed into peals of laughter. “Damnit, Hwoarang, see what your stealing has done!” His reprimand was belied by the mirth in his eyes as he tried to look straight at the other man but failed.

The redhead couldn’t reply for the laughter he was trying to hold in. “Shit, Kazama, I didn’t even think that someone would recognize this stuff!”

“Well, they did and now I may have an angry woman trying to get her pants back from me!” Jin gestured to his comfortable linen slacks that somehow didn’t feel as nice since he knew they were a woman’s.

“You don’t have to stop wearing them; they probably look better on you anyways!” Hwoarang chuckled, smacking the other man on the ass.

Jin turned bright red, “Hey!” he spun around. “What was that for?”

Hwoarang scratched the back of his head, still laughing. “Girly pants,” he explained and began walking away, his Japanese rival hot on his trail.

Needless to say, Jin stripped out of his borrowed pants and threw on some of the new clothes that Hwoarang had bought. Guaranteed to be men’s clothing and not attract any attention from its previous owners. He stood in the middle of the room, eyeing the garment before he stepped into it, wondering if Hwoarang would be the type to buy him ladies’ clothing… no, the cut and colours were definitely made for a man. Shaking his head he pulled them on before sitting to finish his breakfast with Hwoarang who had taken it outside. They wasted little time packing their remaining clothing into their bags, stopping by the breakfast room to stock up on some food for their journey and then checking out and proceeding to the supply store.

Hwoarang tried to get in on helping select the food to bring. A four-day trek would require some food that was easy to carry and wouldn’t spoil. Their pilfered breakfast bagels would last them for their first day, but after that a little dried meat would work nicely. He tried telling Jin this, but the darker man ignored him and trusted the store owner’s recommendation for foods to bring. If they’d had more time, Jin would have better prepared by visiting the market to buy his own selection of food, but they didn’t have the luxury of several days’ preparation and instead selected some pre-packaged goods.

They were already a little over an hour of traveling into town, the extra minutes taken up by Hwoarang who insisted on visiting a convenience store to buy something other than water to drink. He argued his case and eventually won Jin over, if only to get the show on the road and finally start their hike. A couple canned coffees later and they were trudging down the main road towards the trail that led through the island.

Hwoarang was eyeing the last of their money, grumbling that it wasn’t enough and wondering aloud if maybe they should hustle a couple of fights to replenish their funds.

Jin shot him a glare, the thought of hustling anybody on his island incredibly distasteful to him. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

“Aww, c’mon, Kazama… alright, fine, not here – there aren’t any good marks around this place anyways – but if we get back to one of the cities…”

“No,” Jin shook his head, hoping that the length of their trip wouldn’t entertain the conversation.

“But, you and me… working together…”

“No hustling,” Jin put his foot down. They’d met through Hwoarang’s hustling, although the darker fighter despised the deception involved. He just didn’t like tricking other people that way…

“Aw, forget it, then,” Hwoarang laughed, pausing so that the other man could catch up before casually slinging an arm around him. “I know that’s not your thing… especially since most of the marks I manage to find are so weak. We’ve got the tournament to look forward to for some real fights!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Jin looked over at him, showing that he wasn’t bothered by the close-contact even though his heart skipped the moment the Korean touched him. “First you’ve gotta show me how tough you are by getting through this hike.”

“Ha! Piece of cake!” Hwoarang stepped around to face Jin, leaning in close before stepping backwards and taking the last few steps towards the trail that would start them on their journey. “C’mon, Jin! Show me your big, bad forest!”

Jin stepped up his pace and followed the boisterous redhead; ducking the foliage of the under-used path and leaving the sunlight behind as the canopy enclose the sky above him. He tried to repress a grin; he had a strong feeling that he would enjoy the next few days. He’d hiked through the island for week-long excursions with his mother. He was prepared and he still had no doubt that he’d he hurting by the end of their trip. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of growing excitement for what would come.

+++

By the end of the first day Hwoarang was still maintaining an air of confidence over their trip. He’d started the day as well as he could, picking up supplies so that Jin wouldn’t have to worry – even though the bastard had insisted on pointing out he’d forgotten food – and he may have gone a little overboard with the chitchat, but he was just _so_ looking forward to their trip. More than he should have, but he supposed the chance to show the other man that he could survive in his home turf was almost as good as proving his worth in a fight. Almost. Really, he was starting to enjoy Jin’s company, even though the other man seemed to be intent on being a wet blanket for things like hustling and stealing. Despite the little drawbacks, he was enjoying the little quips the other man came out with. He’d say something he thought was so witty, and then Jin would come out with something that just cut him up in the most dead-pan tone that Hwoarang just wanted to punch him in the shoulder like he’d done with his buddies back in the day. Pull him in to muss his hair or something. He was craving contact with Jin and the more he thought on it, the more he grew to think that it might be more than it seemed.

No-no-no, he’d stop that train of thought _right_ there.

He unfurled his bedroll on the floor of the cabin, noting how it appeared to be in better shape than the one they’d stayed in previously. His first instinct was to complain obnoxiously, but he held his tongue, determined to show Jin he could handle it. So instead he decided to play if off like it was nothing. “Hey, great first day, Kazama,” he declared, laying down on his bedding and propping his hands up under his head to look up at his companion. “If the rest of the trip is like this, then you might as well admit right now that I can handle it.” He watched the Japanese man as casually as he could, though trying to pick up any hints as to what the other man was thinking. Would it be easy, or were the first through kilometers just easy to inspire false hope?

Jin silently brewed his tea on the miniature stove staring intently at the gas flame that was the only sound in the cabin. That quiet hiss that filled the air between them and Hwoarang could feel the weight of Jin’s thoughts before they seemed to dissipate suddenly and those dark eyes flitted up to look over at him. “We’ve barely stepped through the entrance,” he smiled with a challenging tone and withdrew a map from his pack. “See, we’re taking this route here that takes us up along the perimeter of Mount Miyanoura-dake. The further we go the rainier it’ll get…”

“A little rain won’t kill us, Jin,” he smiled rolling onto his side to get comfortable.

“Heh, maybe the rain won’t, but it doesn’t mean that it’ll make it easier.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Hwoarang mumbled, closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.

+++

Hwoarang maintained that same bravado for the following day, all through the rain that started falling early morning and even after falling face-first in a puddle and catching Jin laughing at him, he still smiled and claimed he was having the time of his life.

And he was.

Well, it wasn’t something he’d ever dreamed that he’d do, but once he got in with it he had to admit that the time alone with the other man was refreshing. The night previous he’d lied awake, stricken with insomnia, open eyes staring blindly into the darkness and seeing Jin clearly in his mind’s eye. He thought back to his first impression of Jin, and the resentment he’d held for the other man after losing his match. He’d thought deeply on these issues before, but never with the same… excitement as he did then; and he couldn’t put his damn finger on why he felt so giddy being out there. Being able to see the progression of Jin’s demeanour, from when he’d first arrived – Jin being at the mercy of Devil’s whims and rants – to the revelation of his possession to their alone time where both their spirit-entities were dormant. He liked Jin by himself, he was more alive, quick to quip and poke fun at him. Hell, Hwoarang could fucking _talk_ to the other guy when he was like this. It wasn’t painful like pulling teeth. Jin’s fear of Hwoarang finding out about his black beast was gone, and Hwoarang was starting to see the real Jin emerging. He liked it. All through the second day into the evening, even the rain that began to fall all around them couldn’t turn Hwoarang’s thoughts away.

The morning of the third day the two men woke early and set out along the trail. The rain from the night before had left the trail muddy and slippery as they scaled the side of Mount Miyanoura-dake that would lead them further south and closer home. Hwoarang was doing his best to keep from complaining, keeping up the appearance of having a grand old time when in reality the rain was starting to wear him a bit thin, and the impossible trail that Jin had found for them wasn’t brightening his mood any.

“Uh, Jin, are you sure this is a real trail?” he asked, cautiously holding onto a branch as he scaled down some jagged rocks. “I mean, this is at about a fifty five degree angle, here… if we fall; we’re dead.”

“Yes, I’m sure we’re still on the trail,” Jin huffed, climbing down ahead of the redhead. “What’s the matter? Too tough for-”

“Nope, not at all!” Hwoarang forced a laugh which turned into a curse as his foot slipped on a rock. “I just thought you might want me to have a look at that map to make sure that we’re not lost.”

“We’re not lost,” Jin assured him, although Hwoarang was sure he detected a bit of uncertainty in the other man’s voice.

The Korean looked down, watching his rival skillfully skipping down the path – which he was positive was a dried-out river bed – leaving him higher up. He cursed and hurried along as best he could, holding onto tree roots and boulders to keep from tumbling headfirst and taking Jin along with him. ‘ _It would serve that bastard right if I did, though,_ ’ he thought. ‘ _…leading us down this damned trail that isn’t even a real path and I’m going to break my fucking neck here just to prove that I can take his shit… damnit, he would be leading me down the hardest trail… bastard…_ ’ His thoughts continued in that vein, a sort of mantra that helped him keep focused until they reached what seemed like the end. The land began to flatten out and a small path appeared to lead down on a different angle and what looked to be an easier decline. Hwoarang pushed onward; tired, but gripped by the greater need to not show weakness. It was an old habit he’d picked up somewhere back on the streets; the weaker he felt, the more he pushed himself to prove the opposite. That didn’t stop him from sighing happily when Jin suggested they sit down for a moment to catch their breath, and he quickly hurried to a large, flat boulder the size of a car to lie back and let the rain filter through the leaves to bathe his hot body.

Jin didn’t say anything to the Korean’s actions, although Hwoarang was sure that he sensed something akin to amusement in the way that Jin grunted before hopping up beside him. They lied across the boulder in silence; both men letting their gaze wander along the endless green of the leaves and moss-covered trees.

Hwoarang didn’t know about his friend, but his imagination chose that time to become contemplative and muse over the silliest things. Almost as if picking up from the imagery of a couple days previous, he immediately thought of Jin, comparing him to the forest that he’d fully and wholly become immersed in. The rain was heavy outside the canopy, the rain pelting the leaves and creating a far-away roar in the air to accompany the drops that finally made it through the green barrier. Hwoarang sighed and propped his hands behind his head. The whole place was just amazing; it was green and beautiful and all-Jin; and even though Hwoarang was gruff and crass, he could appreciate its beauty. Like Jin, Yakushima could be cold and deadly, but was still breathtaking in its own way, and if he was really honest with himself, Hwoarang knew that it wasn't the challenge of a fight he'd been chasing. Oh sure, his rematch still occupied some small place in his mind, but something else had pushed its way to the forefront. It was something more emotional; something about Jin drew him in and made him hang on for dear life. He didn't want anyone else in Jin's focus or on his mind but himself, and that included Devil. Instinctively he inched closer to the other man before casually turning his head to look over. Jin was soaked and flushed from their descent and he’d peeled his shirt off to bundle up as a pillow beneath his head. Hwoarang looked down from the other man’s face, tracing the outline of his muscled arms that were resting casually by his sides, hands brought up to thread fingers across his stomach. He was staring up at the treetops as well and Hwoarang wondered what he was thinking. Thinking about him? Worrying about Devil? Jin’s expression was relaxed, his brow resting neutral above his dark eyes. He felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through him then and Hwoarang was at a loss of what to do. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he was just lying there looking over at his rival. “Jin…” he started, trailing off as something beyond the other man caught his eye and he bolted upright to get a better look. “What the fuck is that?” he whispered hoarsely, shifting gears away from his fuzzy thoughts to address the more real and pressing concern.

“What?” Jin asked, lazily rolling over to look in the direction that Hwoarang was forcefully pointing to. The din of the rain seemed to go quiet then as a sharp sound pierced the air around them. It was a hollow, whining shriek that stopped abruptly, leaving its resonance to echo off the trees. The two men immediately went silent, their breaths falling to wisps of fog, their bodies freezing in place as they stared at the source of the sound.

There was the sound of a twig snapping as the thing moved towards them and the shriek pierced the air again, this time in shorter bursts and Hwoarang found himself inching even closer to Jin, putting a hand on his shoulder to pull him back. “What the fuck is it?” he breathed into the other man’s ear, worried that even that would trigger the beast to attack. He felt Jin’s body shaking under his touch, though it took a moment for him to realize that the other man was laughing. Laughing! Holding in the sound by clamping a hand over his mouth and turning towards the Korean with eyes full of mirth. “Shit!” Hwoarang struck out with his hand, pointing towards the dark creature that pushed its way through the trees, a crown of ivory sitting high upon its head like bleached tree branches and the stag stared right at him.

“Oh… shit…” Hwoarang breathed, the sound barely registering in the air as the impending danger was immediately diffused. The deer let out another high-pitched shriek and trotted off along the pathway, multi-coloured tail swishing as it went and Hwoarang tried to regain his composure.

Jin couldn’t hold back his laughter any more. “Oh god, Hwoarang, I can’t believe how scared you were over that little-”

“Scared?” Hwoarang blurted out, his voice a little higher than he’d intended as he swiveled around to look at his companion. “I wasn’t scared, Kazama! More like concerned! Who knows what kinds of… _things_ are hiding out here!”

“Well, there are monkeys and deer and a few bugs…” Jin said slowly, trying to straighten out his expression but failing. “Nothing that I’d have to protect you from, though,” he finished as he hopped off the boulder and reached to retrieve his shirt.

That got Hwoarang’s mouth moving, though he couldn’t quite think of anything to say. Finally he sputtered, “P-protect me? I don’t think so, Kazama!” he hopped off the boulder, grabbing Jin’s shoulder to spin him around. “I just didn’t expect to see anything out here. It caught me by surprise!” Jin raised an eyebrow, still smiling widely and Hwoarang decided to switch from defense to offence. “So how much further do we have to go? Want me to have a look at that map so we don’t stumble down any more dried up stream beds?”

“Ugh,” Jin grabbed his bag to find the map. “Well,” he said, unfurling the chart and doing his best to keep it dry while he poured over it. “We should reach the sugi fields by today or… next,” he stopped to scratch his head before looking down the path. “Ah, uh, yeah, let’s keep following this trail.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not sure, Kazama,” Hwoarang exclaimed, pushing the attention away from his reaction to the deer. “You may love all this nature, but if I don’t breathe in some pollution or a cigarette soon, I think I’m going to die.” He paused as Jin’s expression faltered and hastened to add, “Not that this isn’t nice. Really, it’s fucking beautiful.” He tightened his grip on Jin’s shoulder before releasing it. “I like it well enough, but I don’t like being stuck out in it and have no idea where I’m going. We could die if we’re not careful…”

Jin smiled widely again and moved closer to Hwoarang, his expression bright as he pointed out where he thought they were. The redhead noticed how close Jin was to him. He fought the ingrained urge to lean back to show his dominance, they could share the space in front of the map and instead leaned so their shoulders were touching. He saw the markings where the mountains were laid out and the path that they’d been following. He put his hand across Jin’s back as he leaned in point at a landmark, asking a question he didn’t even care to know the answer to. He was feeling greedy and taking advantage of the opportunity for more contact. Jin was addictive, though at the last minute he regained his sanity and abandoned the path he was treading. “Ah, alright, Jin,” he muttered as he pulled away to look down the trail. “You’re the local so I’ll let you lead the way.”

Jin seemed to like the suggestion, oblivious to Hwoarang’s groping, and his expression brightened as they gathered their stuff to continue down the path. “I grew up here with my mother, so I’m used to it… I like it.”

“Uh-huh!” Hwoarang exclaimed, skillfully stepping around a tree root as the path took a sudden turn to the left before continuing along at a comfortable angle. “That would explain why everyone here seems to know you. I met another one of your mom’s friends. She gave me a ton of food – which will hopefully still be edible when we get back – and some special tea for you. Some old recipe-”

“Ah!” Jin exclaimed stopping and spinning around so that Hwoarang nearly crashed into him. “She gave you that… but-?” Jin’s mouth moved, though no sound came out.

Hwoarang put his hands on his hips, “What, is that important or something?”

Jin bowed his head, embarrassed. “That is a mix my mother used to give me to, ah, help with… you know…”

“Ah, that bastard can’t stand the stuff?”

Jin looked at him shocked. “He’d be pissed if he heard you.”

“Damnit, Kazama, when is he _not_ pissed?” Hwoarang laughed. The sound seemed to bring a smile to Jin’s face and the redhead pushed his advantage. “Anyways, he’s not here right now so there’s not much he can do about it. Besides,” he continued before Jin could brood. “You don’t have to take his crap. He likes to talk, but he can’t do shit unless you let him. You worry too much-”

“And you don’t worry at all,” Jin cut him off.

“Nonsense,” Hwoarang looked at Jin in all seriousness. “I’m worried about getting lost and having to sleep under a tree.”

Jin shook his head as if he was disappointed and turned to continue down the trail. “That is the least of my worries.”

+

“Maybe you should have worried a bit more, Kazama,” Hwoarang said a few hours later as the rain beyond the canopy had increased, its force bypassing the leafy barrier and soaking him through and through.

“It’s… not much… further…” Jin said, clutching his sides for warmth. “It always… rains a lot on… the island…”

“I thought you lived here. How the hell can we get lost?” Hwoarang, as much as he’d grown to like Jin was losing his patience. He couldn’t help it, he got that way when his feet were sore and frozen.

“I don’t know the whole damn island, Hwoarang,” Jin bit back, clearly uninterested in entertaining the other man’s complaints.

“Oh, fuck, Kazama, you know how I get when you swear like that.”

“Damnit, would you shut up?” Jin spun around, looking into his companion’s amber eyes with tired yet challenging brown.

Hwoarang stopped short before he walked into Jin and the two men stood nose-to-nose in a short-fused standoff. He glared down, his previous warm and fuzzy feelings drenched and tired and he wasn’t ready to listen to anything other than directions to the closest place to sleep.

Jin’s eyes remained cold and exhausted. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it, leaving the only sound between them their heavy breathing and beating hearts.

Jin’s temporary anger was the first to subside and his face softened after a couple minutes. “You’re not helping, Hwoarang, so just be quiet, alright?”

Hwoarang breathed heavily through his nose and just shrugged, he was happy to back away from the man, though a wicked grin was pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, Kazama, maybe I was being a pain in the ass…” he pushed his way past the Japanese man as a strange electricity sparked between them – which had nothing to do with their dormant inner-spirits. He paused for a moment before gently pushing Jin out of the way so he could continue down the trail. He took a few steps and paused, turning to face the other man. “You coming or what?” he asked quietly, keeping his tone light despite what he was feeling. “Let’s keep going. We can’t be _that_ lost, right?”

Jin frowned and rushed to catch up and the two continued side-by-side along the widening trail. Their brief hostility seemed to have evaporated – or perhaps drenched and seeped into the ground under the downpour – and they continued along in strangely amicable silence, their cold discomfort the only thing on their minds.

The cabin was right around the next bend.


	25. Chapter 25

The next thing Hwoarang knew was that he was lying on the hard ground of another trail cabin. He was surrounded by soft blankets and while he luxuriated in the comfortable feeling they provided, he lazily noticed that he was sleeping in his underwear. A quick glance over to the window showed that his clothes where hanging up to dry alongside Jin’s clothes. The thought of the other man jostled him into full consciousness and he turned his head over to see the still-sleeping form of his rival-turned-friend lying beside him.

The other man was twisted up in the blankets which he’d managed to stay under, despite the weird position he’d turned to in the night. Hwoarang could feel one leg was kicked out to his side, but the other was somewhere else and while Jin’s legs would indicate he was sleeping on his stomach, his torso was quite obviously resting on its side. Jin was facing him and from his position less than a foot from the other man, Hwoarang could see the details of the other man’s face that he’d never been able to see before. Small things like what looked like a faint scar down the side of the man’s temple. He never would have seen it before, but now that he had Jin all to himself, he looked. Reaching up to run a finger along the scar, finding several more the closer he got. ‘ _The life of a fighter, eh?_ ’ Hwoarang thought, not daring to breathe a word, should it wake the other man. Most of the scars were from torn skin where he’d been hit, but the one down his temple bothered him, it was too precise and thick, almost like a bullet had caused the damage, and suddenly Hwoarang saw Jin differently. It was as if a new light had been lit to shine down upon the Japanese man and what had once seemed like the perfect lighting was blown away by this powerful spotlight. Everything that Jun had done to try and protect him hadn’t saved him from cruel reality. Hwoarang had a few bullet scars of his own and seeing that Jin had experienced something so brutal and _real_ just like he had… his fingers ran along the length of the mark again with renewed interest, dropping down to the brunette’s cheek to seek out any other imperfections. Hwoarang started, his eyes going wide as he stilled his hand. Had he been… stroking Jin’s cheek? No, no, he hadn’t been doing that, no, he’d just been… but the excuses died in his mind and he dropped his hand from Jin’s face and pulled away. It was different to touch Jin’s face with an open hand rather than a closed fist.

He returned to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling with his arms rigid at his sides. What had he been thinking?! He sifted back through his thoughts, feeling the giddy excitement that had crept up on him while his mind had been preoccupied with the Japanese fighter for the past few days.

He’d been obsessing over the other man ever since he’d come to the island and he had to stop it.

Even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. He’d been obsessing ever since their first encounter, and even though it had snowballed since he’d first seen Jin from across that river – before falling _into_ the river and making a fool of himself – it was still the same, original, pure obsession. He could pretend to boggle over the reasons and the who, what, when and where, but Hwoarang knew that it stemmed from the fact that Jin didn’t look down on him. He’d had people tell him he was shit his entire life. The cops, the rich fuckers that gambled at Doyon’s casino, hell, even a few of the fighters at the tournament seemed to look down their noses at him. Jun had said outright that he hadn’t been her first choice – even she thought there was someone better – but in the end she had _still_ chosen him, which had to count for something.

No, the one person who’d never looked at him like that was Jin. Oh sure, the other man had blown him off a bunch of times, but it had never been because he was a ‘filthy street rat’ or any other degrading name he’d been called in his short life. Jin would look at him and see a man and Hwoarang looked back and saw the same. He didn’t have to fight it, he saw them as equals… and he just wanted to prove that he was a little bit more equal than Jin in their rematch.

He shifted closer to the other man, feeling the heat radiating from their bodies as he was suddenly reminded of how very close to being naked they both were. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Jin shift against him and he quickly rolled over to his side, blushing furiously as Jin went through the motions of waking. No, he didn’t want to talk to Jin right then, as agreeable as the other man as most of the time, Hwoarang needed some time to think. Jin shifted again and the Korean gracelessly sprang from the makeshift bed, grabbed his still-wet pants from the line by the window and hurried out the door.

Hwoarang stomped down the path in a huff, not even caring that the rain had finally stopped, if only for the morning. No matter where he went, everything reminded him of Jin. Every aged cedar made him think of the other man, every rock, leaf, stream and blade of grass, even staring off into space after dunking his head in the water didn’t put the dark Japanese man from his mind. A familiar feeling began to grow inside him and he turned that anger towards everything. He was pissed off. Pissed at Jun and Angel for even suggesting he go there, pissed at Devil for just being an all-round prick and screwing with his _and_ Jin’s lives. Every person whose name he could remember he cursed. He was doubly angry with himself for letting his defenses so far down that he’d started to feel so much for someone else. That somehow turned back to Devil and he spent a good moment remembering those terrible white eyes just so that he could mentally tear them out. Things were just so fucked and he didn’t know what to do about any of it. He was so confused, what was he doing there? He was supposed to help, but instead he was being friendly and getting closer to Jin.

“Jin…” he mumbled, the name diffusing the angry feelings and calming him somewhat. He was there for Jin. Every time Hwoarang started thinking about what he wanted he just felt worse, but things weren’t always about him. Jin was the one who needed his help… who needed him (he hoped.)

Hwoarang splashed water on his face again, sighing exhaustedly as he stared down into the crystalline depths of the tiny brook. It was as clear as glass and if he stared intently for a while he could see his face mirrored in the meandering current. They’d only been hiking a few days, but in that time Hwoarang had become someone he didn’t recognize. He’d always tried to be a tough guy, badass, even, but the only thing he saw in his reflection was weakness. He felt the doors on his heart opening to someone when he knew that, in the end, people always left him. Anybody he’d ever cared about had left him or grown corrupt, and here he was thinking sweet things about Jin when he knew _damn-well_ that there was a good chance that Devil would take him away.

He grunted unhappily and wished for the first time in a while that he had a cigarette. Hwoarang forced his feelings down, past his heart and as low as he could until he was sure they were somewhere by his feet. As much as he’d like to grow closer to Jin he couldn’t let it happen. He was there to help, but not for anything more than helping another fighter whom he grudgingly respected – even if in truth it had blossomed into so much more than that.

He splashed water on his face again, the action distorting his reflection to nothing and he returned to the cabin to find Jin.


	26. Chapter 26

Jin opened his eyes, the remnants of a waking dream flitting from his consciousness and he rolled over to spread out under the blankets. The spot beside him was nearly cold and his eyes popped open as he looked around for his friend. He seemed to remember Hwoarang getting up sometime earlier, although he’d fallen back into unconsciousness and had failed to notice when the other man didn’t return. He stretched out, puffing out a breath and staring up at the ceiling. “Hwoarang,” he whispered, the name decidedly comfortable on his tongue. He’d never had many friends; given his circumstances, he was grateful for the few that he’d had, though none of them really compared to the abrasive Korean. He’d always regarded Hwoarang apart from anybody else he’d ever met, because he really was _that_ different. It was part of why Jin liked him so much. He’d wanted to keep his situation with Devil a secret, although Hwoarang had known of that evil ever since Jun had chosen him to wield her power. He supposed that was another point for the Blood Talon; that he’d found out about Devil and hadn’t left him right then.

Jin screwed his eyes shut to try and imagine the type of conversation that his mother would have had with him. He was still having trouble accepting the fact that Jun had chosen _Hwoarang_ of all people, but his heart seemed to feel it made the most sense. It just _felt_ right to have the Korean there… despite the initial embarrassment and fight, things seemed to be going well for them. He couldn’t even put into words how much it had meant to him when Hwoarang had promised to let him handle Devil on his own. It was the greatest sign of respect that he could ever ask for, and his heart swelled when he thought of what it meant; Hwoarang didn’t think he was weak. He knew how much that one factor meant to the other man and it meant just as much to him. Strength… it was the one thing that meant survival and they both had it in equal measures.

He sighed when he thought of Jun; even she would have held his hand in his fight – her motherly instincts taking over – but Hwoarang _understood_ him and what he needed. There was a reason they’d met… someone from such a harsh background would understand the merit of doing this on his own. Hwoarang wouldn’t fight his battles for him, but he wouldn’t leave him alone to fight them either. Hwoarang’s presence would be enough to help him through. Devil had been fighting to get Jin alone. He’d wanted to isolate him and make him feel abandoned, as if he had nobody left to turn to, but since the other man had shown up, Jin knew he could never feel that way; Hwoarang would be there for him. As if on cue the sound of a door opening alerted Jin to Hwoarang’s return and he smiled warmly at the Korean.

Hwoarang had his arms crossed across his chest and he had that old sneer he wore that left him closed off and unreadable. Jin’s smile faltered for a moment at the sight and Hwoarang quickly dropped his arms, though his frown stayed put. “We should get going.”

Jin hummed and stretched as he kicked the blankets away and climbed to his feet. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked, walking up to their clothes to see if they’d dried. He noticed that Hwoarang had pulled his pants on, despite the fact that they were still wet. His own pants were nearly dry and he stepped into them, leaving his shirt to hang a bit longer since the sun had begun to filter through the window.

“Oh, uh,” Hwoarang scratched his bare belly and went to his pack to check their rations. “I hadn’t thought of that. Well, we’ve got some bread left… and whatever you bought.” He dug around and withdrew the mini-stove to brew some tea.

Jin rushed over to his pack to find what was left from their trip to the store. The rations weren’t as tasty as the breakfast that Hwoarang had cooked for them that first day back in the cabin. Somehow, dried meat and bread didn’t compare to freshly-caught fish that was then fried with a few spices to flavour. He broke the silence by commenting on how he wanted to make breakfast for Hwoarang once they got back to the cabin. He watched carefully as his offer seemed to tug at the sides of Hwoarang’s mouth and force him to smile. “You’re not the only one who can cook, you know,” Jin sipped at his tea, the liquid warming his insides.

“Ha,” the redhead laughed. “Yeah, but I’m the only one who can cook _well_.”

“You always say stuff like that. Is there something you can’t do better than everyone else?” Jin rolled his eyes, deciding to challenge the other’s claims.

“No,” Hwoarang said flatly, stuffing the crust of his bread into his mouth and standing. “We should get going.”

Jin smiled, packing their supplies away. “You’re terrible at changing the subject,” he muttered under his breath before stepping out the door and away from any rebuttal that Hwoarang may have had.

+++

“You’re also terrible at keeping your mouth shut,” Jin added a couple hours later after listening to Hwoarang complain about the increasingly difficult trail.

“Shut up, Kazama,” Hwoarang cursed, nearly tripping over a sharp boulder. “You’re having trouble too…”

Jin stayed quiet for a few minutes before turning back with a grin. “Want to rest?”

“Naw, I’m… fine Kaza.. ma…” he started, huffing as he tried to catch up before cursing. Jin began to laugh and he snapped, “Shut up!”

“No really, we can rest,” Jin offered, not slowing his lead as Hwoarang pushed on behind him. He heard the tell-tale sounds of the other man’s feet catching on a tree root and spun around to catch him as he fell. “I’m feeling kinda tired, anyways,” he said as he lifted the redhead up. “Let’s stop for a while.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay, I wanted to stop and catch my breath anyways. I’m _really_ tired.”

“Fuck you…” Hwoarang puffed half-heartedly before sitting heavily on a stump. “Are we still lost?”

Jin dropped his bag to the ground and found a seat beside his friend before pulling the map out to take a quick peek. “No, ah, we’ll get back out to the trail… soon…”

“I don’t think the deal was to survive this forest with you leading me in random directions,” Hwoarang puffed, taking a long drink of water.

Jin folded the map back up and stretched his legs out. It was more difficult to travel with the rain making their way slick. Even though it was showing signs of lightening, it had still taken a good chunk out of their progress. He’d hoped to have gotten further, but it seemed that the weather was against them. He hummed sadly, feeling a shadow shifting in the back of his mind; Devil was trying to wake up. It wouldn’t be too long until that beast barged in on his time alone with Hwoarang. He wondered if Angel was stirring within the other man. Were the two forces awakening at the same time, or would one move faster? “Hey, Hwoarang,” he asked, hoping to pull the redhead out of the strange quiet he’d fallen into. “What was my mother like when she asked you to help me?”

The question seemed to throw Hwoarang off, because his head snapped around to stare open-mouthed for a second before snapping shut and his quick-temper caught up. “Where did that come from, Kazama? Didn’t we already talk about this?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jin said, tapping his feet on the ground. “I just like hearing about her. I mean, I haven’t seen her in so long…” He would have felt so silly asking anybody else to tell him a story about his mother, but asking Hwoarang while they were out in the middle of nowhere was somehow outside of reality and exempt from silly feelings of embarrassment. He waited patiently until the Korean heaved a sigh and turned and began telling him again about the dream. He listened intently to the story, visualizing the image in his mind of a figure in pure white. He had strong memories of what Jun looked like and picturing that combined with the angelic features that Hwoarang had adopted warmed his heart. She was still around, maybe even alive; she just couldn’t reach him directly anymore because of Devil. He’d relied on her for so much and he was still relying on her for help – he thought he’d be more independent by now.

“Well, isn’t that what parents are for, Jin?” Hwoarang asked him. “It’s their job to help us out of the shit we get into.”

He said it in a very flat way that piqued Jin’s curiosity before he remembered Hwoarang had mentioned something about Baek before. “You’re worried about Baek, aren’t you?” he asked as softly as he could.

“Ah, yeah,” Hwoarang rubbed the back of his head, his voice breaking off. “Well, I know he can take care of himself… but I still feel bad leaving him there… those bastards are manipulative little fuckers that used him to make me do their damn dirty work…”

Jin said nothing in the silence after Hwoarang trailed off. Baek may not have been dead, but he was beyond their reach and might as well have been hovering in the spirit realm with Jun. “He’ll get out of there,” Jin finally said, reaching out to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And if he can’t get out on his own, then we’ll break him out.”

Hwoarang’s expression was pure shock which was a nice change, Jin decided and he smiled widely, his eyes dancing.

“You’d do that?” Hwoarang finally asked. “I mean, you’d help me break into the military compound to get him out of there? That’s…”

“Tit for tat,” Jin tightened his grip on Hwoarang’s shoulder. “You’re helping my mom so I’ll help your dad. We’re even, then.” He could see the Korean’s expression waver before tightening into a cocky grin. The expression was nothing but a weak mask to hide the river of emotions that Jin felt welling under the surface. He didn’t say anything about it, though, and nodded strongly. “You’d said that you weren’t my mother’s first choice for this, but you’re _my_ first choice, Hwoarang.”

That statement was the utterance that seemed to seal some sort of deal between the two men. Something just clicked between them and no more words were necessary. Their wounds – physical and emotional – were healing and the rift between them was quickly growing smaller. As if it somehow knew, the rain began to slow its barrage as the two fighters gathered their things to continue their trek down the mountain.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang never thought he'd find himself kissing Jin like that, but he was, and fuck what anybody had to say about it. If someone was going to get through his defenses, they'd have to be strong, and as far as he knew, Jin was the only person worth letting in. It wasn't _just_ a kiss. It wasn't gratuitous or carnal or anything like the other kisses he'd given and received before. It had been unlikely that he'd find someone worth kissing like that, but then again, he was an unlikely candidate to be there for Jin in the first place.

The forest had its own living aura about it. Hwoarang had first noticed it when he’d stepped under its canopy; the rocks themselves seemed to have a life of their own on top of the obvious sounds of birds and monkeys that rang out every so often. The sounds were so familiar that they melded together as a hum in the background, leaving his own panting and grunting as the only noise in his ears. The forgotten trail that Jin was leading them along was becoming increasingly difficult, but like Hwoarang had assured Jin, it was something that he could handle. His training under Baek had put his body through such arduous strain that there was little that he wasn’t up to doing.

Hwoarang had promised himself that he’d keep his guard up and not get involved with the other man, but somehow he’d slipped up within the first five minutes of talking to Jin after his resolution had been made. He’d been drawn in like a moth to a flame, his defenses crumbled with just a look and he was left feeling as vulnerable as ever. Why was he having such trouble keeping Jin at arm’s length? He couldn’t do it. How could he? Aside from the other man’s vow to help him rescue his father and mentor from the military, Jin had said something that had cut right through to his heart. The fact that Jin’s first choice was _him_ and nobody else… there was a strange, possessive glee that rose up in Hwoarang when he thought back on it. Jun and Angel had both said that he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t their first choice. Hell, it wasn’t any different from everybody else who’d told him he was a loser, but that didn’t matter. None of it mattered when he knew that Jin didn’t think the same way. Only Jin’s opinion mattered. He couldn’t close himself off from the other man. No way. How could he, when he could feel how similar they were? No, he’d follow along wherever the friendship was leading, even if the excitement was tinged with a fear of the unknown.

Hwoarang trudged along, unable to keep the wide grin from his mouth as he stared at the ground before him. He continued planting one foot in front of the other, even as Jin stopped suddenly and he walked right into Jin’s back and nearly fell over. “Ah, Jin?” The other man didn’t say anything and he listened, noticing the sound that was echoing off from a distance. “What is that?”

Jin turned to look back at him, a boyish-grin on his face before he hurried off through the trees and it was all Hwoarang could do to keep up. “H-hey, Kazama!” he called out, his good mood wavering. “I’m fucking tired here, ya know!” Hwoarang followed along until the trees broke into a small clearing where Jin had thrown his backpack to the ground and was in the process of pulling his shoes off. Hwoarang could see the small waterfall at the side, fed by a stream that rolled down a steep incline which broke several feet above their heads. The water cascaded down into a pool at the centre of the clearing before continuing down along a smaller stream.

“This’ll be great!” Jin exclaimed, setting his shoes neatly beside his bag. “We needed a bath!”

“Uh, that’s great, Kazama…” Hwoarang eyed the water, not keen on the whole idea, no matter how relaxing it might have been. “Well, you have fun; I’m going to rest a bit more.” He watched as Jin peeled off all his clothes save his boxers and jumped into the pool.

“Come on, Hwoarang,” Jin called as he swam over to find a place to stand beneath the spray, letting the clear liquid shower him and press his hair down around his face.

“Naw, Kazama. That’s… not really my thing…” he dropped his bag beside Jin’s. He just wanted to lie down for a while, maybe catch up on some sleep or even snack on some of their un-delicious rations.

He really didn’t see it coming. He should have, but he didn’t. He’d never have expected Jin to pull him in. Not in a million years. He was still in denial as he sputtered and thrashed about in the water and tried to climb up the side. “What the hell?!” he bellowed, finding a rock to stand on as he spun around to glare daggers at Jin. “That wasn’t funny, asshole!” he yelled, pulling at his shirt that was sticking to him in uncomfortable ways. He didn’t even want to think about how his pants were clinging or the fact that he absolutely detested hiking in soaked shoes.

Jin’s laughter rang out and Hwoarang glared daggers as the other man clutched at his sides as he tried to catch his breath.

Hwoarang frowned and climbed up to the edge, peeling off his clothes to wring out and throw onto a rock to dry. He emptied his shoes of water and laid them out with his socks, hoping that the sun would dry them out quickly.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” the brunette finally asked, swimming back to meet the redhead.

“No,” Hwoarang frowned, remembering his goggles and tossing those onto the pile before sliding into the water and diving down. It was really a lot larger than he’d first thought and a whole lot deeper. A few boulders rose high from the bottom to allow for great stepping-stones, and he navigated around those before surfacing several metres from where he was.

The two fighters bantered about in the spring, the soothing waters washing the tiredness from their bodies and rejuvenating their spirits over the whole trip. Hwoarang climbed from the pool to pick up his clothing, complaining again about his clothing and how he’d be freezing for the rest of the day until they found the next cabin.

“We’ve spent too much time in the spring, so we’ll be camping under the stars tonight,” Jin said wryly.

“Ah, fuck me, are you serious?” Hwoarang asked, toweling his hair dry before wrapping the terrycloth around his waist. “Damnit, what I wouldn’t give for a smoke right now…” he sat heavily on a boulder at the edge of the spring.

“Smoking is bad for you, you know,” Jin said, swimming to the edge to get closer to the redhead.

“So am I…” Hwoarang said with a wolfish grin, unable to hold back a wink as he looked down at the other man. He thought to say something more but bit his tongue and quickly stood to find a dry pair of shorts to wear. His guard was already so low; he didn’t want to go around blurting unnecessary things that would just make him look like a fool. ‘ _I already look like a fucking fool_ ,’ he thought sourly as he glanced over at his wet clothes before noticing something was missing. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed, quickly pulling on his shorts and throwing the towel to the ground. “Where the hell are my goggles?” He stomped over to the pile of wet clothes where he distinctly remembered tossing his favourite eyewear. He’d watched them bounce off one of the rocks and fall behind, but when he stood over the place where they should have been, there was nothing there. He spun around to look at Jin, a brief thought of the other man hiding his goggles for fun flitting through his mind before he quickly dismissed it. They’d been swimming the whole time, and Hwoarang had been watching him the whole time – for reasons other than suspicion – and Jin had never set foot out of the spring.

Even still, Jin was holding his sides trying to keep in the laughter. He may not have taken the goggles, but he knew more than he was letting on…

“Ha-ha, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Kazama,” Hwoarang sneered. “I need those to hold my hair back!”

“Ah, uh, it…” Jin tried between laughs. “It could have been the monkeys?”

Hwoarang deadpanned. “Monkeys?”

“I know that Momo was having similar trouble before they built some fences around her onsen. Some of the monkeys would sneak in and steal things while people were in the water.”

“What? Are you shitting me?” Hwoarang turned, the very idea setting his blood to race. Monkeys?! As if on cue the high-pitched shriek rang out through the clearing and the Korean looked up fast enough to see the culprit scampering up a tree, goggles in hand. “H-hey, you little fucker! Give those back!” Hwoarang ran up to the tree, but the primate had disappeared, its chattering laughter the only indicator that it was still up there hiding amongst the leaves.

“I can’t believe this!” Hwoarang grumbled as he sat down on the ground. “What the hell do I do now?” he asked his companion who was still chuckling as he laid out their sleeping arrangements. He glared up where he’d last seen the little thief. The squawking laughter had died away and he sighed, he’d probably have to pick up a new pair when they got to a city. “You could have warned me,” Hwoarang mumbled as he returned to Jin.

“Sorry,” the Japanese man said, bowing his head as if to apologize. “They can be very sneaky; if we keep our things tightly sealed in our bags we shouldn’t have any more problems… I don’t think…”

“Yeah, you don’t have anything nearly as cool as those to steal,” Hwoarang rifled through his bag to find something suitable to sleep in.

“I do,” Jin replied. “It’s back home where the monkeys can’t get it.”

Hwoarang shot him a dirty look; he’d had those goggles since long before he could remember. Of course, Jin wouldn’t understand how cool they were or what they meant to him. But instead of whining more, he kept the same sour expression going just to show how annoyed he was, even as they bedded down for the night. He couldn’t believe that it was a good idea to sleep out in the open with the amount of rain they’d been getting, although the sky appeared to have rained itself out and there was nothing but a clear sky over their heads, the bright stars winking down at them. He pulled his sweatshirt tight around his body and snuggled down into his sleeping bag, grateful that Jin had been thoughtful enough to buy a ground mat. He closed his eyes, his exhaustion catching up with him and he figured he’d complain more about his goggles in the morning. “Hey, Kazama?” he asked, yawning loudly. He waited a moment for a reply, but the other man had already fallen asleep. “Goodnight, then,” he murmured.

+++

Hwoarang was a light sleeper. His subconscious was always urging him to be on alert in case he was attacked, robbed or worse. It was second nature for the Korean to sleep with one eye open, only finding comfort and safety in a few places where he could really, truly enjoy sleep. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t many. Though he might have been sleeping deeper than usual since he’d arrived in Yakushima, he found that after the theft of his goggles, he couldn’t really relax. Knowing he’d been ripped off by a damn monkey could do that to a person.

So, Hwoarang slept very lightly that night. So lightly that he could have heard a pin drop onto a pile of soft moss from across the clearing. He just couldn’t let go. The sound of a backpack being opened was like an alarm that caused him to sit bolt upright and glare towards the source of the noise. He was about to bark something unpleasant at the thief, but quickly snapped his mouth shut, swallowing up the shout of alarm when he saw who it was. What it was. The monkey was struggling to pull Jin’s pack open and hadn’t noticed that Hwoarang had woken up.

Hwoarang’s eyes were glued to the monkey, watching every move the creature made. The Blood Talon moved with feline grace as he moved forward, crawling on all fours towards the creature. He was moving on instinct, not entirely sure of what he’d do but knowing that getting as close as he could was the first step. He couldn’t take his focus off the goggles that were hanging loosely around the monkey’s hairy neck. Just a littler further. Hwoarang was so close. Almost close enough to… leap… The monkey seemed to perk up and Hwoarang sprang forward to close the gap between them, making a grab for the creature. The monkey sprang out of the way, its tail smacking the redhead in the face as he crashed to the ground, clutching at air.

“Shit!” he cursed as the little rascal scampered away to the tree line of the clearing before pausing and looking back at him. It made some sort of gesture that Hwoarang immediately took as a taunt and the chase was on! He was on his feet, diving through the trees, his amber eyes trained only on the creature that seemed to remain a few feet beyond his grasp, those goggles around its neck glinting in the dim light. “Damnit, come back here!” Wet branches smacked him in the face but were easily ignored. His goggles were so close; he wouldn’t let them away a second time!

He was gaining on the little fuzzball, thoughts of how to grab the monkey without hurting it began to formulate in his mind. His mind could only focus on so much with so little sleep and a sudden shout from Jin distracted him and he looked back. “What?” he asked, mid-stride before the other man’s warning became perfectly clear and he crashed head-first into the trunk of a particularly thick tree. “Oof!” was all he could emit as the wind was knocked from his lungs and he slammed into the ground with equal force. Who’d put that tree there? He seemed to hear Jin calling him again, ringing in unison with the laughing monkey, growing foggy and fading as everything went dark.

+

Hwoarang moaned uncomfortably, things feeling like they were underwater and he could have sworn that there was a woman’s voice calling to him. She sounded familiar and very pissed off, but it was so far away that he couldn’t really understand. She sounded beautiful, maybe an ex girlfriend or someone he owed money to… for a magical moment Hwoarang was completely oblivious to everything but that sound that melded together. Her voice was like crystal, falling upon itself and he unfocused his mind and let the beautiful sound wash over his consciousness. It babbled and fell away until his mind cleared and the noise sounded less like a woman and more like the gentle babble of water falling. He tried to decide what it was, listening intently and realizing that he sucked at guessing games, opened his eyes to find out what the fuck had happened.

There were long blades of bamboo grass in front of his vision, though when he moved his eyes to look up he could see the sound was coming from the spring from the day before. “Hey, Ji-aahhhh,” he sat up, his greeting turning into a groan of agony as his head spun and he was overcome with a terrible feeling of nausea. He quickly lied back down and put a hand over his face, trying to stop that sickening feeling. Oh god, why was the world spinning suddenly? Why did he hurt so badly? It was worse than a hangover. He pulled his hand back and found his palm spattered with fresh blood. Blood? Forget the migraine, what happened? He was about to sit up and find out when he felt a pressure on his chest, pushing him back down and his hands were batted away from his face to be replaced by a cold compress.

“What happened?” he asked after a while of submitting to Jin’s care.

“You ran into a tree,” the darker man said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” was Hwoarang’s response and he felt himself blush furiously. “That damn monkey…”

“You know,” Jin said, removing the compress to freshen it and inspect Hwoarang’s injuries. “You should just forget about getting your goggles back. You’re lucky you just gashed your forehead open and didn’t break your nose!”

“You know, he took some of your shit too,” Hwoarang tried grinning, but it turned into a wince. “My face is swollen, isn’t it?” he frowned. He could tell and he had a terrible feeling his eye would be swollen shut by the end of the day.

“Ah, yes, I know he grabbed some of our food,” Jin said slowly. “But I don’t see the point in chasing after it if we’re going to end up running into trees…” his voice cracked with a smile and Hwoarang pushed the compress out of the way so he could properly glare at the other man. “And no, your eye won’t swell up, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jin added. “I’ve been taking care of you since you knocked yourself out twenty minutes ago.”

“Twenty minutes?” Hwoarang sat up again, this time the nausea didn’t bother him and he only felt a little dizzy. “Damnit, now that monkey is _really_ gone with my shit.” He thought he felt a bell of laughter murmuring in his subconscious and realized that Angel was laughing at his situation too. “Fuck…” he cursed, looking sharply at Jin. “Uh, is he…? I mean… I’m starting to get a feeling from _her_ …”

Jin nodded, his smile vanishing as he adopted a more stern look. “I can feel him; though he’s not strong enough to talk yet. He’s more like a shadow in a dim room. There, but not really bothersome…” he sighed deeply, shoulders heaving under the strain that he’d soon have to bear again.

Hwoarang watched him, a sudden pang shooting through him like an arrow. In a few days time and they’d have their own divine spirits bitching at them without a moment’s privacy or rest. He felt the weight of the hourglass bearing down on their time together and he looked up into Jin’s face. The other man was still hovering close to him. So close… Hwoarang felt a rush of anticipation wash over him and he looked away suddenly, feeling his cheeks burning and his heart racing. Any coherent thought seemed to abandon him. The air between them – the short distance – was suddenly charged and Hwoarang wanted to close it. Just wanted to bring Jin down onto him and remove that final distance.

His breath hitched in his throat and time seemed to stand still. Like in a fight, the next move was being weighed out, only he had no idea how it would turn out. He felt Jin’s hand flinch as it was still pressed to his chest and Hwoarang fought the urge to grab it and hold it close. This was one of those rare moments without any distractions. None whatsoever. Jin’s eyes were trained on him, and not in a dismissive way. Jin had blown him off so many times before, but that moment there with his dark eyes staring endlessly down at him, fringed with dark lashes that seemed unnatural for a man to have and his strong-yet-attractively shaped face… Hwoarang was feeling exhilarated to have all the attention. He wanted more. He didn’t want it to end.

Inhaling a shaky breath, Hwoarang reached up to hold Jin’s hand against him. His fingertips encircled around the strong wrist, spreading out to feel along the back of his hand, slowly, oh-so slowly running down the soft skin there until his fingers were resting against Jin’s. His eyes never left that beautiful, brooding face and he held his breath.

Jin didn’t move for a moment. He allowed Hwoarang to press his hand close against his chest, seeming to become mesmerized by the action. It only lasted a moment before his eyes blinked realization and he none-too-subtly pulled his hand away as if he’d been burned.

Hwoarang watched open-mouthed as Jin pulled away from him, those dark eyes that had been so inviting were closing themselves away and he was left with the cold bite of rejection.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, sitting up and grabbing Jin’s arm to keep him from leaving. He knew there was something there between them. He might have denied it before, but… well, that was before. Now that he knew that his feelings weren’t one-sided? He knew Jin felt something for him too and he wouldn’t let the other man reject him so quickly. Not without an explanation. “What?” he asked, holding his tongue to keep from biting out something he’d regret later.

“N-nothing,” Jin said, sitting back on his haunches. “D-Devil would never forgive me…” he shook his head. “We should get going… I’m sorry for leading you on…”

“What?” Hwoarang asked, raising an eyebrow in annoyance. “Is that bastard still on your mind, even if he’s not really there?” He grabbed Jin by the arm. “Goddamnit, Jin. What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget about him?”

Jin wrenched his arm free. “You only want me to think about you!”

“Well…” Hwoarang trailed off, absently scratching the back of his head.

“You’re just like him!” Jin almost laughed. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. You think everything is about you!” He stood to pack their things up, turning his back to the Korean.

Hwoarang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He climbed to his feet; the ache in his head was pushed aside as he pursued more important matters. “Hey, that’s not fair!” he exclaimed, following the other man.

“Yeah? Why did you accept my mother’s offer, then?” Jin spun around to face him. His expression was twisted, unpleasant and something that Hwoarang just wanted to smack off of him. He knew that look all-too well. He’d felt it before; it was pure _defense_. “Tell me the real reason. Did you accept just to get her power? Just so you could get your fight?! I thought you actually… cared, but it feels like all you want me to do is think about you. Fight you so you can _leave_!”

The words stung like a slap to the face, but Hwoarang wouldn’t back down. “Kaza- Jin,” he started, quieting his voice to little more than a whisper. “I think you know that’s not true.” He reached out to touch the other man’s face, his fingers aching for contact which was denied when Jin shied away at the last moment. The redhead reached out to the shrinking figure, roughly grabbing him and shoving him back against a tree until he stopped squirming. He peered down into still-resistant brown eyes that were locked with his, silently pleading him to stop. Please just stop before they crossed that line they couldn’t return to.

Hwoarang ignored the pleas and warnings and moved to close that final gap between them. That line which Jin was terrified of moving beyond had already been crossed. Sometime before that; when Hwoarang had realized what he really wanted, despite his resistance to feeling for anybody that could hurt him. When Jin had opened up and exposed his soul with the tender confessions and assurances they’d shared, despite his desire to protect his friend from his darker half. There was no turning back and Hwoarang’s mouth came to rest lightly against his former-rival’s.

The kiss was quick and chaste but conveyed the unspoken things the he’d never be able to say to the other man. Just the feeling of his lips meeting Jin’s was enough to set Hwoarang gasping and sighing at the same time. His grip on Jin softened and it became more of an embrace than a thing of force. When Jin stopped struggling and began responding in kind, that was the moment that Hwoarang truly did need to break apart to draw a proper breath. He leaned back, still pressing Jin’s shoulders against the tree to hold him in place.

“You’re right,” he sighed after a moment, looking Jin square in the eyes. “I’m a selfish prick, so that kiss was all about me…” he leaned in closer until their mouths were an inch apart. “But this one is all for you… Jin…” he breathed the name as he descended once more, hot lips closing around Jin’s mouth, this time to a warm reception that welcomed him inside and their tongues met for that first delicious, electric moment.

Their bodies pressed together as the kiss progressed, soft, wet tongues explored each other as hands and fingers did the same. Hwoarang thought he’d explode with the sudden release that the kiss triggered. He’d wanted it so badly. He found Jin’s hand and laced their fingers in a crushing grip, holding onto each other as their tentative explorations continued.

Jin was kissing him. He was kissing Jin. It was really happening. Really. Hwoarang thought he could go on forever. Fuck the tournament and Doyon and the damn military. Did it really matter when he had Jin? His defenses mentally slammed down and embedded themselves in the dirt and Hwoarang truly opened up as their bodies met, speaking that divine language of affection and adoration in the softly aggressive kiss that said nothing of rivalry.

A sudden shriek above their heads caused Hwoarang to pull away in surprise, looking deeply into Jin’s eyes before arching an eyebrow as the two fighters looked up. There, swinging above their heads, the monkey had returned to bother them. He’d wrapped his tail around a branch and was swinging back and forth, dangling the Korean’s goggles just beyond their reach, interrupting their kiss with a playful shriek as he taunted them.

Hwoarang said nothing and looked back to Jin, intending to continue the kiss from where they’d left off.

“Ah, your… uh, don’t you want them back?” Jin pressed a hand to his chest.

Hwoarang smiled, his gaze never wavering from the Japanese. “Fuck ‘em, right now it’s all about _you_ , Jin.” The look on the other’s face made Hwoarang want to eat him right up. It was a small, shy smile that made him seem more innocent than he really was. He tried to push in again to recapture those delectable lips in another kiss, but was stopped. He looked oddly at Jin, warning that if he was rejecting him because of Devil…

Jin simply smiled and looked back up at the monkey, gently reaching up and lightly asking for it to drop the goggles.

“Uh, I don’t think asking will…” Hwoarang was about say something against it working, but his words died off as the monkey chirped once and dropped the goggles into Jin’s outstretched hand. “What the fuck? How’d you do that?!” he asked, jumping back and reaching for his recovered eyewear.

“Well, sometimes the monkeys will return things if you ask nicely…”

“That little fucker wasn’t being nice! He was taunting me… and why the hell didn’t you call him down before?”

Jin opened his mouth to reply but closed it to smile mischievously and Hwoarang grumbled something about suffering for his entertainment as threw his goggles around his neck, though clearly beaming to have them back.

Their kiss had opened up a whole new path of possibilities for the two fighters, although neither man seemed to have enough courage to broach the topic after the event. The monkey had effectively ended their first real kiss. They packed their gear up in comfortable silence and continued on the trail to Onoaida. It was almost as if the kiss had never happened, though they seemed to touch more often, whether it was Hwoarang slinging an arm around Jin’s waist to pull him up the trail, or the darker fighter holding the boisterous Korean’s arm to show him something interesting. There was no uncomfortable moment between them, although neither man moved to start another kiss or even talk about it happening. Hwoarang would have just reached in to pull Jin close to start again, but the moment never felt right. Normally he wouldn’t have cared and just pushed for more, but Jin was special and he didn’t want to ruin something he felt so strongly for. He didn’t think too heavily on it, assuming that they’d follow up that evening when they were preparing for bed and had some quiet time to themselves. Images of what that could lead to flooded his mind, but were quickly batted away as Jin called back from further up the trail, urging him to hurry up.

Hwoarang ran to catch up to his Japanese… friend. “What? What is it?” he stopped beside him, bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He looked up at the brunette who was staring wide-eyed at a large tree before him. He looked up at the weathered cedar; aside from a strange feeling of incredible weight, he didn’t see much else about the tree. It was beautiful, although he couldn’t understand why. Couldn’t put his finger on it, and so he stood there beside Jin, just taking in the view until he leaned ever-so casually on his friend’s shoulder and asked what it was they were looking at.

“Jomon sugi,” Jin replied, shrugging and looking up at its outstretched branches. “It’s the oldest tree on the island. Some people say that it’s over seven thousand years old. I… well, since we were coming this way anyways, I thought you might want to see it. It’s one of my favourite trees.”

Normally that statement would have caused Hwoarang to burst out laughing, his earlier statement that the trees were Jin’s friends ringing in his mind, but for some reason the laughter didn’t even occur to him. The moment washed over him, the life of the forest seeming to take a stronger hold on him and Hwoarang could sense the vibrant hum of everything around him, including a strong feeling from the man he was leaning against. Glancing sideways he caught the dark, thoughtful look that had possessed Jin’s features and he grunted. Something was on the other man’s mind and he had a good idea of what it was; the same thing that had possessed his thoughts for the past few hours. He stayed quiet, the nervous energy building inside him until he couldn’t hold back anymore and he had to say something.

“Fine, so now you know I like you, Jin,” he said, breaking the silence between them. “Well, just because I really like you, don’t think that I’m going to get you flowers and write poetry or mushy shit like that.” He bit his tongue, the words feeling sharp in contrast to what he was feeling.

Jin only laughed, the sound breaking the tension between them. “What makes you think that I’d like to receive flowers? I’m a grown man, ‘Rang. I don’t need to be swept off my feet.”

“Kazama… you’re in awe over this tree and you don’t want flowers?”

“Hey, I like flowers, but I don’t need you to give me any…” he bowed his head and stepped forward before turning to face the Korean. “But… I have to say… I don’t know if I can do this…” He frowned and looked away. “Maybe we should stop now…”

Hwoarang tried to step forward and pull him close, but Jin brought his hand up to gently stop him. “It’s just… everything I do to try and stop Devil just makes him stronger. He’ll despise anything we have, and I’m afraid of what he’d do to you…”

“Kazama…” Hwoarang started in a warning tone, pushing the blocking-hand away and stepping closer to the other man.

“I know, Hwoarang, so don’t start. It’s just that you haven’t seen the kind of shit he can do. I mean… what if I’m just not strong enough? What if he’s stronger? What if-?”

“Shut up,” Hwoarang put an arm over Jin’s shoulder, leaning in so he could get as close as possible to Jin’s face. It would have been a casual gesture if the Korean hadn’t been so deadly serious. “Listen to me, Jin. I didn’t go to every one of those damn Iron Fist tournaments just for kicks. I went there for you. You know why? Cuz you held your own against me in a fight. Hell, I haven’t been able to break you down and neither has Devil. You’re giving that bastard too much credit, and I sure as hell didn’t follow you to those tournaments because you’re weak.” He brought his other arm up to sling over Jin’s other shoulder and he moved in even closer, bringing his mouth a breath away from Jin’s before whispering. “And don’t forget that I’m a big boy, Kazama. I know the dangers. You’re _my_ choice too, so you’re stuck with me.”

Jin’s eyes were wide with shock, even as Hwoarang kissed him he was slow to respond. The kiss was stronger than before, less tentative and more assertive, as if to punctuate everything that Hwoarang had said and seal the deal that they really had stepped beyond the borders of friendship and far beyond those of their simple rivalry.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions and telling heartbeats. Jin receives the final push from Jun, a little encouragement to move him into Hwoarang's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lamest summary EVAR. I thought a little blessing from Jun would be nice to throw in here. This is the last of the uncertainty. Uhh, sorry for the OMAKE at the end, but it was fucking NECESSARY! I couldn't continue without writing it, so said my muse. And I listen to it because it's pushed me to write all this so far.

They’d arrived at the next cabin along the trail far later than they’d hoped. Much like the last time, they’d fumbled around in the dark, drawing out the blankets and sleeping bags before exhaustedly climbing inside and falling asleep. The only difference from the previous times was that they moved far closer to one another. Initially it had been casual, but quickly morphed into a twisted form of leg-kicked-out cuddle that really wasn’t comfortable. Neither man had the strength to move out of it and they settled down, their snores quickly growing to echo in the darkened room.

Jin’s dream started right away and he immediately recognized the setting. He seemed to remember seeing the fat, red moon just breaking the horizon, although this time it was climbing at a steady pace and he could feel the anger radiating from it. There was an ominous air that hung thick around the glowing orb and he immediately felt himself spiraling into horror as he saw it. Flashes of pain resonated across its surface and his thoughts immediately turned to Hwoarang. Devil would destroy him…

“No,” he muttered, lifting a hand to his head. He wouldn’t let it. His mind reeled at the threat and he fought back with an intense desire to stop that from happening. He thought of Hwoarang… the other man had been in his previous dream too, giving him strength and telling him something, something important. There was something else he needed to know… he nearly leapt as he felt a hand on his back, warm and filling him with strength. Jin turned his back to the blood moon that seemed to crackle with rage and looked towards the person that stood before him.

The white sun was shining brightly in the sky, though Jin couldn’t take his eyes from the figure that stood before him, her hand still on his shoulder and he rushed into her arms, gripping her tightly as she held him close. “Mom?” he asked with a shuddering breath. Her form was hazy and the harder he gripped her, the more translucent she became. He didn’t care; he’d been without her for so long that he wouldn’t let her go so easily, even if it was just a dream. There was so much he wanted to ask her, to tell her… he just wanted to look at her, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

Her laughter was weak but as clear as a bell as she patted his head and gently guided him to release her. “Jin,” she said, and it was the only thing he had to hear. He wanted to be strong, but he couldn’t stop the tightness in his chest and he bit back the tears that were welling up in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Jin,” she said, the warmth of her emotion shining through and Jin knew that it wasn’t just a dream. She was connected to him through Hwoarang, though she was still very weak.

“Mom, I don’t know what to do. Hwoarang is here and I don’t want him to go, but Devil will use me to-” all his worries started to fall from his lips in a torrent of doubt. Jun only smiled and raised a hand to his mouth to silence him.

“Don’t listen to your fear of him. He will come to rule you if you let him,” she said simply.

“Then what should I listen to?” Jin asked, exhausted.

“The one thing that he can’t influence,” she said, stepping back and pressing a hand to his chest. “Your heart.”

Jin woke with a start and tried to bolt upright in bed, but found that his Korean companion’s arms were entangled around his waist. He held his breath, listening to the silence. Loud snoring assured him that Hwoarang was still sleeping and blissfully unaware of his dream or that Jun had used him to communicate with her son. The sky outside was barely coloured with an early morning hue and Jin began to disentangle himself from Hwoarang, but paused as he looked upon the other fighter. He’d never seen Hwoarang like that and couldn’t help but move in closer, reaching out to brush some of his multi-coloured hair to the side. He wasn’t pretty when he slept, Hwoarang was definitely masculine and haphazard with his mouth open and his head tilted back at an awkward angle. Jun’s words came back to him then, her final advice before he’d felt a surge of energy spread through him from her touch, forcing him awake.

‘Listen to your heart.’

He raised a hand to his chest to feel the frantic beating beneath his ribcage. Was its rhythm so fast from the dream? He shook his head before looking down at Hwoarang with new eyes. Devil would be there if he was alone or not, but… he shared something with Hwoarang that Devil couldn’t reach. He really, truly felt something for the other man. Hwoarang had a way of making him feel normal, he knew of Devil and wasn’t afraid of the beast. What’s more, he had the power to fight it.

Jin held his breath as he leaned down as close as he dared to Hwoarang’s face. He hovered a breath away from him before continuing forward, feeling his heart thrumming as he brought his mouth down to gently kiss the other man’s lips. The act was brief and was abruptly ended when Hwoarang mumbled something and turned to the side, kicking his leg out from beneath the covers. Jin lied back down, his heart calming as his conscience did too and he closed his eyes to dreamless sleep.

+++

“I dreamt I was at the tournament!” Hwoarang smiled as he stretched, arching off the floor somewhat as his feet poked from beneath the covers.

“I know, you kicked me a few times,” Jin smiled and passed some tea to the sleepy redhead.

“Yeah, I’m dangerous in bed, Kazama. You’d better watch yourself,” Hwoarang said, waggling his eyebrows.

“You’re not the only one who is dangerous in bed, Hwoarang,” Jin rolled his eyes before reaching out to smack the other man.

“Well, unless you’re planning on Dutch-ovening me, then you shouldn’t even try to make threats like that,” Hwoarang retorted, clearly enjoying the look on the other man’s face before his own changed to surprise as Jin reached down to grab his chin and hold him in place for a kiss. It was short and sweet, but even still Hwoarang felt a shiver race up his spine and he was left speechless. “Jin, what was…?”

“Just so you know you’re not the only one who can start kisses, Hwoarang,” Jin winked and returned to preparing the last of their rations for breakfast.

+

They started their hike in the early afternoon, the trail was becoming easier as the day progressed and Jin claimed to recognize some of the landmarks, which put the two fighters in high spirits. The sky had already begun to change to the colours of twilight when Jin pushed the greenery to the side to reveal the small clearing of his home. They both made a small shout of excitement before tiredly trudging across the lawn. Hwoarang stooped down to retrieve his cigarettes from where he’d left them on the porch days earlier. They’d been just far enough under the roof to avoid being rained on and he sighed contentedly as he put one of the slender sticks to his mouth and followed Jin into the cabin.

“No smoking in here, ‘Rang,” Jin said without looking up from his place bent over the stove. “Take it outside.”

Hwoarang frowned and pocketed his lighter, still keeping the unlit cigarette between his teeth as he flopped down onto Jin’s bed. “You’re just trying to get me out of your bed.”

“Well, it _is_ mine.”

“You mean I still get the shitty bed?” Hwoarang pouted, moving down onto the pile of blankets on the floor. “Damn.”

“Well, you _are_ an uninvited guest. I didn’t have time to fix the spare room,” Jin sniffed. “You should have called first.”

“Maybe I should leave…” Hwoarang made to get up but stopped when he saw the look that Jin shot him over his shoulder.

“Don’t play coy, Hwoarang. It doesn’t suit you. Finish that outside and then come back and I’ll welcome you in then.”

Hwoarang didn’t move, instead throwing an arm over his eyes. He was too comfortable to move right then. “Maaa, Kazama!” he whined after a few moments. “I’m thirsty!”

“Then get something to drink,” came the deadpan response.

Hwoarang opened his eyes just enough to look over at the other man who was busy brewing some of his tea. He huffed out a breath and sat up, keeping his brows furrowed as he moved to sit heavily on a chair and reached into the basket that was still on the table for a can of pop. The food that had been bought days earlier seemed to be no worse for wear and he was glad that he’d grabbed some junk food while he’d been out and merrily munched on some spiced soy beans. He held his still-unlit cigarette between his fingers as he ate and watched the other man finish brewing his tea.

Jin sat opposite him and sipped at the beverage, his dark eyes trained on the cigarette that Hwoarang still held between his fingers. “I didn’t think you smoked,” he said, blowing on the steaming beverage.

“Only after sex,” Hwoarang winked, retrieving a beer from the basket and cracking it open.

“Is this how you’re gonna be?” Jin laughed. “One little kiss and you’re some lusty pervert?”

“Relax,” Hwoarang blew a kiss and tucked the smoke behind his ear. “I’m just fucking around. So what’s that tea?” He changed topics quickly before he got riled up and went for another kiss.

Jin blushed and set the cup on the table, staring at it for a moment. “Well, it helps me concentrate and develop my mental abilities. Mother used to give it to me and it helps me block Devil out of my thoughts.”

“So, those ladies… Momo and Inoue… they know about-”

“No!” Jin cut him off suddenly, before calming somewhat. “They are my mother’s friends. She told them that I have some trouble with nightmares and inner demons… so they don’t know exactly what’s wrong… and I don’t know what they think of it. Either way, they’re both very sweet and I don’t want them to know the truth…”

“So, nobody knows, do they?” Hwoarang asked suddenly, pulling the bottle from his lips. He’d thought that he was the only one in the dark about the whole situation, but it seemed that Jin had been doing his best to keep the secret from everybody.

“No. Only mother, you and…” he trailed off, visibly shuddering before adding that his father and grandfather also knew. “I’m going to kill them,” Jin added after a long pause. “Kazuya and Heihachi, I mean. The entire Mishima line is corrupt and twisted. Devil is so thoroughly entwined with every generation that it’s too _evil_ to exist. I… won’t let anybody else suffer because of them.”

The confession slapped Hwoarang across the face as he felt the weight of what was being said. Jin intended to kill his family… did that include himself as well? He could see the intensity in the other man’s eyes, but couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “So that’s what you were doing whenever you blew me off?”

Jin nodded and took a sip of his tea before continuing. “I was going to kill… everyone… even myself, just to make sure that nobody else suffered because of him.”

Hwoarang’s mind reeled as he heard the confession, the words only starting to sink in as he rushed to speak. “But you’re not evil, Jin! You’re a fucking Kazama.”

“My father is a Mishima… it’s my responsibility to cleanse-”

“ _Kazama_ ,” Hwoarang said warningly. “Cleanse all you want, I can’t lecture you with the blood on my hands…” he took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the other man’s eyes on him. “But I know you’re strong enough… if you kill yourself it’s like giving in to him and admitting defeat…” He exhaled a shaky breath, unaware of when the tightness had gripped his chest and he grit his teeth, looking straight into Jin’s eyes. “I’ll never forgive you if you do it.”

“It was all I could think of,” Jin said after a long pause. “I didn’t want to, but I was just so alone. I didn’t know if I could resist… but now I’m sure I can,” he said with an infectious smile.

Hwoarang grinned, resting his chin in his hand before rubbing the back of his neck nervously and bringing his smoke to his mouth. He suddenly felt fluttery on the inside as he listened to Jin talk, just knowing that it really was a mutual interest that ran deeper than aesthetics on both their sides. Well, he hoped that Jin thought he was pretty. He damn well knew that Jin was hot. He reached for his lighter, shaking his head at the thought.

“No smoking,” Jin said, reaching across the table to put a hand on the lighter. “Take it outside.”

Hwoarang grinned and left, finding a comfortable spot on the porch with his back pressed up against the supporting beam again. His lighter flickered in the near-darkness and he inhaled deeply, not really needing the smoke but more craving the action. He’d been accused of having an oral fixation and was just comfortable when his mouth was doing something; whether it was smoking, drinking, or talking. Jin came out to join him and he thought of another thing he liked doing with his mouth, though he was too comfortable to grab Jin and kiss him again. Damn, he’d really enjoyed that kiss but he didn’t want to push things with Devil awake in his mind. Angel was being nice and quiet for him, probably biding her time until he pissed her off. He hoped she stayed out of his business for a little while longer; he was really starting to enjoy Jin’s company. He sucked back on the filter of his cigarette, lighting the cherry heater brightly before pulling it away and replacing it with the lip of his beer.

They sat outside for a long while, Hwoarang’s mouth busy with either cigarette or beer and left the silence between them untouched. It was comfortable and a good end to their day. There had been so much said between them, so many doors had been opened and crossed through, leading to each other and drawing them closer… he couldn’t fathom ruining it with another word.

Hwoarang leaned heavily against the weathered wood, beer long-gone with the spent butts of several cigarettes floating in the liquid that remained at the bottom of the bottle. He stretched, hearing the sounds of Jin standing.

“You coming to bed?” he asked, as casually as a lover would and Hwoarang had to smile.

“Was that an invitation?”

Jin didn’t answer and he silently rose to follow, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **OMAKE**   
> 
> 
> **Jin:** Hwoarang, I didn’t mean you could climb into MY bed!  
>  **Hwoarang:** But… the way you said it… I thought…  
>  **Jin:** It’s too crowded!!!!  
>  **Hwoarang:** Aww, don’t be that way, baby! We can cuddle better this way.  
>  **Jin:** … *pouts*  
>  **Hwoarang:** Yeah, now just let me get… comfortable… *adjusts self*  
>  **Jin:** O_O OUT!!  
>  **Hwoarang:** But… I thought you wanted some buttsecks?  
>  **Jin:** Too tired!! Ask tomorrow!!  
>  **Hwoarang:** Ahhh yeah, nothing like morning sex!!  
>  **Jin:** Hwoarang, can you please get out of my bed now? You’ve got your own bed.  
>  **Hwoarang:** You mean the pile of blankets on the floor? Yeah, thanks, Kazama. Really appreciate your hospitality. *reaches down to pinch Jin on the ass*  
>  **Jin:** Hwoarang!!  
>  **Hwoarang:** *hops out of bed* See you in the morning, sweetheart *blows kisses*  <3<3  
>  **Jin:** *rolls eyes*  
>  **Jin:** … Hwoarang… You can come back if you want  
>  **Hwoarang:** *already snoring*  
>  **Jin:** *giggles* Well, don’t say I never asked…


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Hwoarang kept his promise to stay with Jin in Yakushima, Jun's promise to watch over things in Korea holds her there to watch over Yon in the aftermath of the redhead's escape.  There she finds a way she can repay Hwoarang for everything he's done beyond her request to simply help Jin.  The only thing left standing in her way is her inability to properly communicate with Yon to warn her of the sudden danger.

The effort from visiting her son left Jun feeling drained.  She’d slipped from Jin’s dreaming mind as he’d woken, sinking down to recover with a light feeling in her heart.  She had promised herself that she’d leave him to get stronger on his own, with Hwoarang and Angel’s help, but she hadn’t been able to resist reaching out to him.  She’d only wanted to see him, maybe touch him – as intangible as she was on the best of days – but when she’d actually looked at him, she’d been compelled to do more.  The affection he had for Hwoarang was obvious as they slept so close together.  She’d come to accept the truth of their situation and was all too happy to assuage his fears when he spoke with her in his dream.  Devil may have been strong, but Jin was stronger.  His heart was thrumming loudly, despite his fear, and she soothed him as only a mother could.  Telling him the truth.

What was the truth?  That Hwoarang was a good choice and Jin was free to love him?  Yes, Jun had understood the depth of affection that flowed between them as she’d watched the two interact.  Their interactions had been aggressive and painful at first, but their friendship had grown fast in such a short period and her spirit had leapt with joy when she’d seen the first traces of affection tracing through Jin’s aura.  His stuttered words and jokes made only for Hwoarang… she’d rarely seen him like that.  It wasn’t a question of Jin being attracted to males or females, this was more personal.  The bond was between Jin and Hwoarang on a level that seemed to transcend gender, or, at least it had the potential to go that far.  Once bitten twice shy, Jin had closed his heart off from everyone.  Hwoarang seemed to be the only person that Jin would let in close.  The _only_ one.  He had been the right choice.  Hwoarang took things slowly; he was dealing with Jin as only he could, in the only way that Jin’s guarded heart would accept.

When she’d told Jin to listen to his heart, she’d meant it, because she could already hear loud and clear what it was saying.  It didn’t take a genius to know that their bond had moved beyond friendship even before their first kiss.

She had to shake her head at that.  She hadn’t expected to check in on them and find Hwoarang pinning her son to a tree with a kiss.  Shocking?  Yes, but once she eyed up Hwoarang’s aura and felt that it was evenly matched with Jin’s feelings, she’d backed off.  Not her first choice… not _her_ first choice… but it wasn’t her choice in that area anyways.

Once she’d recovered her strength, she quickly returned to Korea.  She’d promised to watch things there for signs of trouble, though she felt she should be doing more.  Hwoarang was helping in more ways than she could have expected, and she felt that she should do something more as a thank you, though with the language barrier stopping her, and her intangible nature, it would be difficult to do anything meaningful.  Still, she owed him something more than the loan of Angel’s powers.  Something significant.

+

Jun had decided after her first day of following the Major who’d tried to lock Hwoarang up, that she’d have better luck following the doctor that had helped him escape.  She quickly decided that the military had lost interest in Hwoarang, either having written him off as an incorrigible loss, or someone actually having argued on his behalf to leave him alone.  Either way, nobody was moving to follow him beyond the dogs they’d sent out after him that first night.

Still, Jun continued to fulfill her promise to watch over things.  That woman, Yon, was far more pleasant to be around than the Major and she’d started following the doctor on her rounds.  It was obvious how miserable Yon was, despite the seemingly good work she was doing.  The environment was stifling her and with superiors like Major Kang, who could blame her?  Jun tried not to follow the doctor every waking minute of the day – wanting to leave her with some measure of privacy – though she became curious when the doctor began leaving her ward at odd hours to go to the training complex.  Jun was comfortable enough in a room full of soldiers being trained in martial arts, but Yon’s demeanour and aura told otherwise.  She was a healer, she didn’t fight.  The doctor’s frequent trips got the better of Jun’s curiosity and one night she followed to find out what was going on.  She hovered behind the doctor when Yon rushed over to visit the training instructor at the end of class. 

Jun almost turned to give them some privacy.  The woman had a right to fraternize with whomever she wanted, it was beyond Jun’s business to follow her into that room.  Yon deserved some time alone with her lover, but Jun halted her retreat when she looked again at the pair.  There was something missing from their spirits that screamed passion.  It was more like a close friendship, close enough to thrust them into each other’s arms later, but now it was more… comfort.  So Yon was friends with this man, so what?  Jun knew she should have left, but instead she followed closer.  She could see the colours in Yon’s aura swirling with emotions that never made it to the surface in her everyday life.  She cared greatly for this man and Jun had to smile and the thought that even in that place she could find someone to talk with.  She turned her attention to this  man, startled that she couldn’t read his aura as easily.  He was guarded, only a small opening shining through in his conversation with the doctor.  That was strange, usually people were oblivious to what they projected, though it seemed he was in control of himself on a level greater than most other soldiers were.  She looked at his outward appearance; he was older, a few lines gracing his face and adding distinction to his smile.  His hair was long enough to be tied back and he’d grown a trimmed moustache and goatee that made him stand out from all the clean-faced soldiers she’d seen around base.  Jun couldn’t help but think it odd that a military man wouldn’t have cut his hair short.  Well, whoever he was, she was definitely interested in finding out more.  He seemed oblivious to her presence as he led Yon from the dojo and out beyond where Jun felt it right that she follow.

Since that day, Jun followed Yon to the training dojo to meet with this mystery man.  She’d proudly picked up a few key Korean words, though she couldn’t wholly understand conversations.  She didn’t need language to recognize that this nameless instructor seemed to soften when he met with Yon, his strict countenance melting away once his students left and it was just the two – three – of them left in that room.  Jun hadn’t a clue who he was.  It wasn’t until she’d plucked up the courage to follow Yon back to this man’s quarters that everything became clear.  She’d walked through the door, following behind the couple at a distance, observing the very plain living quarters with just a newspaper folded on the couch and a television tucked into the corner.  She’d looked around at the books, thinking that he couldn’t be such a bad person when she’d tilted her head to look at some papers thrown haphazardly on a table.  There, staring her in the face from beneath a pile of mail was a very familiar envelope.  The cool white paper was pristine and flawless, embossed with the Mishima seal that Jun recognized as a King of Iron Fist invitation.  Her head snapped back to stare wide-eyed at the man who was leading Yon from the kitchen, smiling tightly and offering her tea.  Jun felt her spirit falter for a moment of sudden realization that flooded her senses and she felt her purpose for being there solidify.  “Oh my… it’s Baek…”

+

She would alternate between following Yon and Baek around.  It was a change to her routine, which was nice and helped take her worried mind off her son.  He was fine, they were fine.  Yes, Jin and Hwoarang were just fine.  She watched Baek train his students for a while.  He looked older than when she’d seen him at the earlier tournaments.  So much older, his hair turning a light silver and crows feet marked the sides of his eyes.  She visited him when Yon became busy with medical happenings, and she found herself in Baek’s dojo on more than one occasion, though it was obvious after witnessing her first class that something had been off, hadn’t felt natural.  She understood the level of effort that a teacher put out; doing their best to instruct their students to be the best, and Baek just wasn’t involved with his class on that level.  He’d been tight-lipped about a lot of the techniques – she couldn’t understand, but she could see the level of repression in his aura skyrocket – even as he set the bricks up for his students to practice smashing.  They were ill-prepared.  It was unclear to Jun if the military had restricted him to a specific set of forms, or if he simply had no interest in teaching a proper class.

What bothered her, even after the first two students with injuries were sent to the medic, was the lack of respect from the class.  None openly said anything, though she could sense the dissent among the young soldiers.  Jun knew what kind of men were training under Doo San, they were too similar to the man who’d hurt Hwoarang.  It was an awful feeling to watch their distrustful eyes burn though a man that she was beginning to view as good – for Yon at least.  Her anxiety rose when they began sparring one-on-one and the students would blatantly try to take him out. 

Of course, Baek put them down instead, though it was a heartbreaking thing to see a teacher have to do, and she could sense his emotions just boarded off, his face growing hard and unmoving until the end of class.  He wasn’t there of his own free will, that much was obvious.  The military had pressed Hwoarang into service, forced him to do terrible things.  It was logical to assume that Baek was there under some sort of conscription as well.  He was on contract with the military, and until that contract ran out, he was their dog.

Jun watched Yon and Baek, wondering when she’d find some way to repay Hwoarang for his kindness.  Wondering if she’d be able to do anything when the moment came.

+++

The letter arrived none too soon, and Yon felt her heart flutter with both relief and despair at the same time.  Her eyes lingered on that white envelope, knowing its contents and fingering the outside where Baek Doo San’s name was printed.  He’d been waiting for it; the standard military stationary with the standard release of service letter.  His calendar had been marked with the day that he would finally be free from his service and now the paperwork had come to finalize it.

Soon she’d be left alone in that building with those people and military dogs.  When was her service going to be up?  The thought of Doo San leaving her behind left a dark cloud hovering over her heart.  She tried to shake her head and turn back to the kettle that had started whistling on the stove.  He was waiting in the other room for her to return, slumped on the sofa with his head in his hand, his body radiating exhaustion after his training class.  He’d tried to hide the details of his classes from her for a while, and she hadn’t asked.  His stern expression was hard for her to break, though once she’d found that he’d needed medical attention, she’d forced the rest from him.  Forced being the key word, because even after she’d treated him for his bruised bones, he still didn’t want to talk about it.  One of his students was vehemently against him for one reason or another – a real upstart with an inflated sense of self-importance – and he’d surprised Baek while the older man had been busy with another student.  She shuddered at the memory of Chin attacking Hwoarang in a similar way…

She set the cups with steaming tea on a tray and thought to bring the mail out to him as well.  She reached out; her hand hovered over the envelope and a sudden feeling washing over her.  Almost as if someone were hovering over her.  She spun around to look behind her, but she was still alone.  Baek was in the other room and she was left, heart racing and staring wide-eyed at the kitchen for that invisible presence that she’d been sensing for the past little while.  It was usually a ghost of an impression that she could easily brush off as overwork, though this was one of the stronger moments that she couldn’t ignore.  It was the same feeling she got when someone was reading over her shoulder.  She wouldn’t have been surprised if she was being haunted, but this just… didn’t feel like a vengeful ghost.  She looked at the rows of cupboards, eyes scanning the faded paint on the walls and sighed, beginning to question her sanity, just as she always did when that presence had gone.  She left the envelope on the table and carried the tray out to the other room.  Doo San would find the letter when he was feeling better, right then; she knew all he needed was silence and someone to share it with him.

+

Yon stepped through the door to the training gym and looked about.  The class had already finished and the only person left in that spacious room was the man who’d asked her to come.  She was a little later than the time he’d specified, but she’d timed her arrival so she wouldn’t have to see any of his students.  She’d found that his students were brash and offensive towards him, they were even worse to her with their snide remarks and glares.  Lately she’d only had the desire to visit with Baek.  Her few acquaintances didn’t appeal to her as friends, they were desperate to prove themselves for a promotion, which just turned her stomach at the thought of spending more of her life in that place.  The incident with Hwoarang had opened her eyes to the way things worked there.  She’d healed many soldiers that had been carted off and dealt with by Major Kang or men like him.  If she hadn’t met that brash redhead, she’d still be lying to herself, thinking she was happy and doing her job without question, and she never would have sought out Baek Doo San.  Now all she wanted was to find a way out of there.  She knew that Baek felt the same way.  He’d been unhappy with his contract before he’d met her, but after she’d explained the situation with Hwoarang, he’d been furious.  He hadn’t believed that Hwoarang would do anything as violent or despicable as what they’d told him, though they’d made a _very_ convincing case.  He’d risked making the arrangement with the Major to send Hwoarang on that special mission.  On the surface, it had appeared that Hwoarang had betrayed the deal he’d risked making.  If it wasn’t for Yon he would have still been upset with Hwoarang.  Now he was furious at the men who’d told him that his student was a traitor.  _Nobody_ lied to him like that about his students, especially about Hwoarang.  He may have been many things, but he wasn’t a murderer.  Yon had to hide her smile whenever she heard the older man talking about his student.  He spoke so fondly when he recalled the redhead’s antics, it was almost fatherly.  She really felt herself being drawn in close to Baek, so much that it would be painful when he finally left the next day.  Baek was leaving in the morning, his obligation to the military at an end, and she was feeling the telltale heartache at the thought.  Helping Hwoarang escape had left her feeling melancholy at his absence.  Watching Baek leave… she didn’t want to think of what she might feel at that.

He was laying into a punching bag with a series of kicks, firm, precise hits echoing in the cavernous room.  She approached, quietly waiting for him to finish the barrage.  He usually unwound after his classes, exerting himself and getting his discomfort at the pressures out of his system.  His face was stern as he lashed out; more drawn than it usually was after a class.  “Doo San?” she asked, standing to the side of the mats.  Her voice seemed to draw his attention and he looked up at her.  After a few seconds his mouth quirked up into a smile, though his eyes remained hard and unreadable.

“How was it?” she asked, ready to get him out of there and maybe serve him a hot meal.  She slipped her shoes off and stepped gingerly onto the mat, walking up to him when she was sure he wouldn’t turn back to the bag.

He didn’t say anything, his hands curling into fists before he forced them out and reached up to rest them on her shoulders.  “I’ll be glad to get out of here,” he avoided the question.  “I don’t want anything more to do with this place,” he looked deep into her eyes and he finally softened.  “Well, none of this training soldiers, anyways.  So… do you want to go to my-?”

The door to the dojo slammed shut, cutting off his question and Yon looked to see who’d returned to class.  Nothing could have prepared her to face that man.  That hateful, evil man who’d plagued her nightmares ever since he’d threatened her for helping Hwoarang escape.  He’d approached her after it couldn’t be proven that she’d had any hand in the redhead’s escape.  Somehow, he’d known the truth and had threatened to put her into a coma as well.  That threat still rang in her ears as he marched up, never taking his boots off as he strode across the mat towards her.  Her body felt like it was as stiff as a board.  The buzzing in her veins was deafening and she wanted to scream.  He was going to kill her… panic began to rush through her body, but ebbed suddenly and a strange, calming sensation filled her.  It was reminiscent of a mother calming a frightened child and she breathed outward, welcoming whatever force had stilled her fears.  That feeling was over her shoulder and the mentally grasped at the familiarity, welcome distraction from those black eyes.

“What do you need, Chin?” Baek asked, completely oblivious.

“I’m here for a lesson,” the younger man sneered, leaning around to eye the doctor.  “I heard you’re leaving, I wanted to get one last lesson in before you abandon your students.”

“You’re not my student anymore, Chin,” he frowned at the other man and crossed his arms.  “You don’t appreciate the art.  You only use it as a tool to get what you want… and I won’t teach you anything more than I already have.”

Chin seemed to smile at that and he clenched his fists at his sides.  He seemed to narrow his eyes at the older man before they cut to where Yon stood somewhat behind him.  “So, you’re the bitch that helped that traitor escape?”

Baek narrowed his eyes.  “Don’t turn your anger towards her, Chin.  They’ll find another trainer for their dogs.”

“Whatever.  Once you’re gone you won’t be here to protect her…”

“You’d _dare_?” Baek’s body tightened like a coiled spring, his fists balling at his sides and his feet instinctively moved into a fighting stance.

“What do you care, old man?  It looks like there’s a bunch of cowards running away these days.  Heh, Hwoarang ran after I beat him down too…”

Baek twitched.  Yon instinctively stepped behind him, feeling his aura suddenly change to a dangerously dark air.  His breathing thick, controlled breaths, teeth grinding as he turned his head to look at her, a silent question burning in his eyes.  Yon could only nod, tell him that this man was responsible for Hwoarang.  “He’s the one…”

Yon didn’t even see him move, she felt paralyzed as her vision went white and it felt as if someone was hovering over her.  It was comfortable and helped distract from the horror of Baek’s sudden shift to murderous intent.  She watched him throw his weight into his attack, full-force brutality that Chin was surprisingly able to counter.  A few hits broke through and the cocky young man was spitting up blood soon enough.

Baek’s attack continued; flamingo kicks knocking his opponent back against the wall before he followed with another attack.  Chin dove out of the way, grabbing one of the training boards and swung around to catch the older man upside the head.  The force of the strike would have dropped any other man to his knees, but Baek seemed unfazed.

Yon was torn between wanting him to stop, and hoping he’d kill Chin.  She could only think of Min and Hwoarang and how that despicable, savage man had attacked them.  Hurt them.  Killing one and nearly ruining the other.  It went against the oath she’d sworn as a doctor to protect life, but at that moment, she felt completely justified to want more than a few drops of blood to hit the dojo mat.

Chin swung the board again, this time Baek broke it with his foot, a perfectly executed kick that cut through the wood and stopped short of doing the same to Chin’s throat.  Time seemed to stand still, the master’s foot hovering in the air, a breath away from the killing blow.  Chin blinked, confusion mingling with his anger as he backed away.

Yon could see Baek waver as he brought his foot down to the ground and she rushed up to him.  His hands were still balled into fists, shaking at his sides; his entire body was rigid and twitched with the anger that no-doubt still burned inside of him.  Yon felt her anger dissipating in the quiet lull of the fight, suddenly feeling the guilt rising up in her like bile at the realization that she’d been hoping for him to die.  He deserved many things, but death was too easy for him.  “Doo San?” she asked, lightly putting her hand on his arm, she could almost feel him buzzing with adrenaline, but she held on.  “…Baek… let’s just go.”

The darkness in his eyes seemed to break and he looked over to her, still hard but there was some underlying emotion that she couldn’t pinpoint.  Something deep-seated that quickly flashed away as he looked back to his former pupil – not good enough to be a student – who was quietly picking up a brick from the training stack.  “Shit…” he cursed, pushing Yon off to the side as Chin rushed forward again.  The masonry broke into pieces as it broke across Baek’s forearms.  The military dog was showing his fangs and it was obvious Chin was out for blood, even if Baek had lost his taste for it.

Yon rushed to the other side of the dojo, trying to keep clear of the fight, which had become so much more intense than before.  Baek launched Chin backwards, the momentum sending him crashing against the wall.  Plaster and paint chips flew everywhere, dust falling in small puffs from the cracks in the wall.  The soldier picked himself up, wiping blood from his mouth and turning to look at Yon. 

She was closer to him than Baek was; a few short steps away from that monster and a mile away from the other.  She stood still against the wall, feet together, eyes wide, heart racing.  For a second she watched everything happen in slow motion before her, that evil man lunging towards her, even as Baek’s shout for him to stop rang out as a low growl.  Everything felt fuzzy around her, everything felt intangible and unreal.  She slid back against the wall, her foot catching on something that felt solid.  She felt something inside her tell her to move, not to run, but to fight!  Without even thinking, she bent down to grab one of the training bricks, gripping it with white-knuckled determination and swinging around as hard as she could.  The weight caused it to arch like a pendulum, bringing the solid masonry up to connect with his face, a loud, sickening crack echoing in the dojo and he fell to the ground. 

The brick hit the mat with a dull thud and the last thing Yon remembered was sinking to her knees just as Baek rushed up to catch her.

+

It was late when Yon finally opened her eyes.  The remnants of a dream telling her to get out of there were still tugging at the edges of her consciousness, though she couldn’t remember why it was important.  The first thing she saw was the familiar and drab curtains that circled around her hospital bed in a sickly oval.  She stared up at the ceiling for a brief moment, wondering why she was even there when memory hit her and she sprang from the bed.  Her clothing was still in place, the hospital gown blessedly not drafting behind her and she could only surmise that she’d been left there to rest.

Her shoes clacked on the floor as she ran down the hallway, she had to find Baek… find out what happened…  She stopped dead in her tracks and looked over her shoulder.  She could have sworn that someone had said her name.  Clear as crystal and urgent in warning.  She had a strange feeling that she wasn’t alone and without thinking ducked into one of the rooms.  After a few moments, she started feeling silly.  Why was she hiding in her own hospital?  She was about to walk out into the hallway and find out what had happened when she felt a jolt run through her body and she leapt back, drawing a curtain around her and held her breath. Heavy footsteps were ringing through the hallway, soldier’s boots and she could hear the click of their guns as they walked past her hiding place.

“Bring Dr. Yon out here so the Major can talk to her!” one of them ground out and she drew back even further.  They were going for her room.  Once they discovered she wasn’t there they’d find her!  Frightened eyes looked around the small recovery room, though the only door was out to the hallway where the soldiers would be any moment.  The idea of climbing through the window sprang to mind, though froze mid-thought as she heard those footsteps again.  Their boots thudding along the floor, the same voice coughing and muttering something about being on the wrong floor.  She waited for a full minute before she even dared to release the curtains from where she’d pulled them up around her body.  She had to get out of there… now.

The hallway was as deserted as it had been before, though now she was careful to carry her shoes against her chest, her socks muffling the sound of her footsteps as she glided down the corridor.  Avoiding the nurse’s station she quietly opened the door to the stairwell and slipped inside.  The door clicked shut behind her, as quiet as she’d allow, though it seemed to echo in that cavernous space.  “Great, what do I do now?” she whispered under her breath.  She’d been able to help Hwoarang escape, but who would help her?  She turned and pressed her back to the wall, her mind reeling, unable to focus.  What had happened?  She’d defended herself.  Chin had been going towards her and she’d defended herself… but even as she tried repeating that fact in her head, she remembered Hwoarang and how the truth had been covered up with his attack.  Staying would only lead to her being stripped of her license and locked away as a common prisoner.  She couldn’t… she held her breath, shrinking back into the shadows when she voices on the other side of the door.  There was the gruff voice of Major Kang barking orders to his men.  She dared to peek through the window, thanking the shadows that she wouldn’t be seen.  He was further down the hallway, tearing a strip out of the soldiers she had seen rush out to collect her.  Things were unraveling so fast, she was the target and she had to get the hell out of there.  She began to back away from the window, hoping to escape down the stairwell unnoticed.  Her eyes were glued to that window, the dim light pouring through the other side.  The Major wasn’t looking, she could turn and leave.  She kept her eyes on the men in the other room.  Watching for them to turn and see her as she backed away.  Watching to make sure they _didn’t_ see her.  Backing away as slowly as possible, she could slip down the stairs and get out somehow.  She held her breath, feeling that small victory of escape within her grasp when someone suddenly came up behind her and it was a hand over her mouth that stifled the shriek that tried to escape.  She struggled in blind panic, but those strong arms clamped around her, pressing her tight against his body.  She wrapped her fingers around his arm, trying to wrench away from this stranger when she heard a welcome and familiar voice whispering for her to calm down.  She stopped struggling immediately, waiting for him to release her so she could spin around and throw her arms around his neck, shaking and utterly scared.  She could barely make out Baek Doo San’s face in the dim lighting, though he was the most welcome person she’d seen since she’d woken.  She released him and stepped back, feeling a little foolish for holding him so tightly, though it had felt wonderful.  “Doo San… what’s happening?”

“Chin is in a coma,” he said, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her down the stairwell.  The angry voice of the Major faded as they reached ground level and then traveled even further below to the basement.  “I already gave my statement that Chin had gone crazy and tried attacking you,” Baek explained as they hurried.  “I talked to a few of my higher up contacts and they’re going to pull some strings, but right now Kang is… that bastard is on the warpath.  He has enough sway to bring you in for interrogation… but, I won’t let that happen.”  He pulled her along the basement corridor, passing dusty rooms with cobwebbed frames.  The scene was so familiar. 

She clutched her shoes under her arm, thinking of all the things that she’d be leaving behind, even a spare change of clothes would have been nice to bring.  “Where are you taking me?”

“There’s a tournament I’ve been invited to, it will be a good place to hide until things calm down.”  He said it just as the overhead lights flickered to life in the forgotten hallway and Yon was gripped with the same urge to get into the nearest room and hide.  Something over her shoulder, that feeling breathing down her neck.  She stopped dead in her tracks, yanking back to pull Baek in a different direction.  “What the-?” he began to ask but shut up when the footsteps began to echo in the corridor far behind them.  They were faint as they echoed in the stairwell on the way down to the basement, setting a chill to run up both their spines. 

Yon grabbed the doorknob of the first frame to her right.  She began to turn the rusted metal handle, but something in her mind screamed ‘NO!’ and she jumped back as if she had been burned and bolted across the hallway to an identical door.  The knob turned smoothly and she pushed the aged door open, pulling Baek inside behind her.  Her hands immediately flew to her mouth, stifling the coughing fit at the particles that swirled about in the air.  A big cloud of dust had been disturbed as she’d swung the door shut behind them and she fell to her knees, breathing through the fabric of her sleeve as it settled once more.

“The hell…?” Baek breathed through his own rasping coughs.  Yon reached out in the dark, her fingertips brushing against his leg as he crouched and she gave him a reassuring squeeze, which was funny because she felt anything but sure.  Outside, there were sounds, scuffled footsteps and talking.  The air seemed to freeze between them, her fingers digging into his thigh in that heart-stopping moment when they heard the sound of the doorknob to their hiding place shifting.  Yon swore she could feel fingers tightening around the handle, ready to turn it and swing the door open.  Her own fingers tightened on Baek’s leg and he pulled her close, raising them both to stand before he pushed her behind him.  Any minute the soldiers would find them… any second that door they’d forgotten to lock would be opened…

“Shit, this one’s locked up tight!” the thickly accented voice rang through from the hallway.  “They musta taken the other path back there!  Let’s go before the Major has our heads!”

They listened to the retreating footsteps.  Yon’s heart felt like it had leapt into her throat and she let out a shaky sigh.  Baek shifted beside her, his body relaxing from the fighting stance he’d moved into.

“I think they’re gone…” Yon breathed, stepping up to the door and putting her hand on the knob.

“We should wait!” Baek hissed, but the doctor turned the knob and opened their dark room to the lit hallway.

“They’ll be back soon,” she replied, pulling him out and along their original path.  “I can’t explain how I know, but I just feel something…”  She looked imploringly into the fighter’s eyes, dark and foreboding.  “Now’s our chance to get away from here.  I… Doo San, please, let’s just go.”

He brought a hand up to run through his goatee, thoughtfully tugging on a few hairs before his eyes flitted back to hers and he reached out to grab her wrist.  “Alright.  I gathered some of your things to take with us to the tournament.  There’s a car waiting for us.”

Yon smiled and together they continued down the forgotten hallway to their escape.

+++

Jun settled heavily into the spirit realm.  Helping those two escape had been beyond exhausting and she encircled herself with safe, white light before bedding down to recover her strength.  Yon had been semi-aware of her, which had been helpful when she had been trying to direct her, though convincing the guard that the door had truly been locked pushed even her abilities.  That man’s mind had been so clouded and thick with outside influence that, for a moment, she’d been positive that he’d try turning the knob anyways.  She’d forced her way through, slamming her will against his to induce a miniature dream that included a door he was so positive wouldn’t open he didn’t try.  After that, she’d fallen from his mind and settled back into the spaces between the air; an invisible spirit exhausted to the point where all other action was impossible.  She had to rest.  Beyond that, she couldn’t think of much else, other than hoping what she’d done would help Hwoarang, because he was beyond what she’d expected when she’d met him.  He was more than she’d hoped for with finding someone to help her son.  She’d only intended him as a force to break Devil down to nothing, but he’d become a companion and lover who healed Jin’s heart the one and only way it could be mended.

She smiled, she’d definitely made the right decision.  She only hoped that whatever was happening back in Yakushima, that Angel recognized that as well.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's their first morning back in Jin's cabin and Hwoarang is ready to train.  It starts off serious, and then somewhere along the line, Jin gets other ideas.  Somehow, Hwoarang doesn't mind a little pleasant distraction.

Hwoarang cracked his eyes open the next morning to hear the kettle whistling on the stovetop.  He rolled over to see Jin sitting at the table, eyes focused on a book in front of him, seemingly oblivious to the noise.  “H-hey, Kazama,” he said groggily.  “You gonna get that?”

The greeting seemed to stir the other man from his thoughts and he looked up with bright eyes.  “Huh?” he asked intelligently.

Hwoarang shook his head and climbed to his feet, having trouble keeping his balance after just waking.  “The water’s boiling.  I’m going to have some tea too,” he said, taking the kettle off the stove and pouring two cups.  He set one down in front of Jin and sat opposite in his regular chair, raising his arms above his head to stretch his muscles out.  He watched the other man for a moment before huffing out a breath.  “Don’t tell me you’re being all moody again, Jin!” He reached across to pull the book down and get a good look at the other man.

“I’m not,” Jin said, marking his place and putting the book on the table.  “Just because I’m trying to read doesn’t mean that Devil is bothering me.”

“Good!” Hwoarang said, “If he’s not bugging you then do you want to get some training in? The tournament is coming up and I wanted to practice a bit before going back in.”

“What’s the matter, ‘Rang?” Jin asked with a taunting lilt.  “Are you saying you might lose if we don’t go out this morning?”

“Of course not, _Kazama_ ,” the redhead barked, earning a laugh from the other man.  “Shut up, let’s go!”

Hwoarang was the first out the door, dropping his shirt to the floor and tying his borrowed training pants tightly around his waist.  He hopped on the balls of his feet as he reached a spot that he felt was a good place to face off, swinging his legs up and out in a series of test kicks to warm his muscles up.  He watched Jin take his place opposite and he blew him a kiss.

“Don’t be so excited to lose, Hwoarang,” Jin winked back, adjusting his gloves so they sat comfortably on his hands before holding his fists up.

“Yeah, yeah.  Shut up already,” Hwoarang grinned back, taking his stance as well.

The pause between them was brief; the levity of the fight was clear as their first moves were made, each glancing off their targets as the two men moved together and against the other at the same time.  Hwoarang was caught off guard as Jin broke out with a rising lancer that sent him flying and he tried to catch his footing as he skidded along the ground.  He held his ribs, grunting at the pain there before looking back at his opponent.  Jin wasn’t holding anything back and he grinned, launching himself at the other man to move into a chainsaw kick.  He brought his leg high, his body already falling into the familiar movements, gaining momentum as he swung his hip around, keeping his eyes trained on Jin as he moved in to connect.  His foot connected with its mark and he felt his blood run cold as he felt the other man collapse beneath him.

He should have blocked.

Jin should have seen it coming – he’d been showy about it – why hadn’t he blocked?

“Kazama!” Hwoarang shouted, dropping his guard as he rushed over to the other man who was climbing to his feet.  “Are you alright?”  He wanted to move in and just grab him to make sure everything was okay, but he hovered back, watching as Jin held his hand out to ask for a minute while he pressed a hand to his head.

“Jin…” Hwoarang said after a few minutes, about ready to suggest they stop when the other man looked up at him with clear brown eyes and smiled at him. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Sorry about that…” Jin said, raising his fists to show he was ready.  He didn’t wait for Hwoarang to respond before he lashed out with another attack.

“Good!” Hwoarang laughed as he blocked the fists that flew towards him, barely able to get a punch of his own in before Jin had backed away.  “I’d hate to think that I’m too much for you!”

“Heh, you’re not too much for me, Hwoarang.  Don’t think that one little kick is going to knock me out!” As if to emphasize his point, Jin raised his leg to come down on Hwoarang with a simple axe kick which quickly morphed into a flurry of side-kicks that knocked the redhead back.

“Ah, you…” Hwoarang coughed.  “You won’t make it through the tournament with moves like that!” he stood up and sprang towards the other man, hauling his fist back, but instead was caught off guard as Jin dropped his shoulder and hooked him in the side.  “Fuck!” Hwoarang muttered as he clutched at his ribs.  He tried to side step, perhaps hook Jin in the ribs as well, but was caught by a fist that jabbed up to knock his head back before striking again in the centre of his chest, sending him back.  He landed, staring up wildly as he tried to bring some air back into his lungs and block any further attacks that came his way.  He heaved as he lay on the ground, idly wondering why the next attack wasn’t coming.  Moments later, Jin landed on him, straddling his waist and pinning him down so he couldn’t move.  “Damnit, Kazama, let go!” he struggled but Jin bore down on him, his bright smile was replaced with a devilish grin.

“Do you give up?” his dark eyes danced as he loomed over the other man.

“Ha!  After that?” Hwoarang struggled again.  “I still got a lot of fight left in me, Kazama!”

Jin smiled widely, his teeth glinting.  “Good, so do I.”

Hwoarang didn’t have anything to say.  He couldn’t respond, since Jin’s mouth was on his and he didn’t have the wherewithal to kiss back.  He’d usually be the first to reverse their positions and _really_ kiss the other man if that’s what he was after but there were so many things rushing through his head for him to act quickly enough.

Jin pulled back after a few moments, a quizzical look on his face.  “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, you okay for… this?” Hwoarang asked, eager but unsure as he reached up to put a hand on the other man’s leg.

Jin quirked a grin, “If you mean _him_ , then yeah, I’m fine.  He was misbehaving earlier so I sent him to his room.”

“Oh, _really_?” Hwoarang grinned and reached up to pull Jin down to him.  The darker man was already on the move and their lips met again, this kiss containing more passion than any they had shared before.  Jin was gripping Hwoarang’s shoulders with crushing force, while the redhead was holding Jin against him with every bit of strength he possessed.  He wouldn’t let him go, not after starting a kiss like that!

Their tongues worked together in unison, wetly stroking and hungrily pushing deeper, plunging inside, past teeth that scraped together and bit down playfully.  Hwoarang could sense Angel retreat within his head and took that as her bowing out, not wanting any part in what was about to happen.  It was just as well, since he didn’t want anybody else as close to Jin as he was going to get.  He sat up, sliding Jin down his torso until the other man was straddling his lap, their chests pressed together and Hwoarang couldn’t resist thrusting his hips upward to meet his rival.

Jin shuddered, his lips faltering in the kiss and they broke apart, leaving their mouths swollen and panting against one another.  He pressed himself harder into the Korean, gripping his shoulders tightly and spreading his legs so he slid fully and hard against the other man.

Hwoarang chuckled breathily, wrapping his arms around Jin’s back to hold him close.  It felt as if things had been building up to that point, waiting for him to hold Jin against him like that, to finally make a move and take action on the feelings that had been growing inside him.  It wasn’t even about the sex, even though that’s all he could think of at the moment.  Jin’s body pressing so close to his pushed him into action and he renewed their kiss.  He forced his tongue inside, instigating a battle between them; opening his jaw, fully encompassing the other’s mouth before he was pushed back as the same was done to him.  Blind kissing that was forceful and erratic.  He felt down Jin’s back, eager fingers delving in to dig into the meaty flesh of Jin’s bottom.  He just wanted a feel.  Wanted to hear the little sounds that he was swallowing with savage kisses, hear Jin break free and cry out.  He didn’t want to be the only one who was feeling so wantonly lecherous at that moment.

Oh, Hwoarang had truly met his match.  He’d have flipped Jin over in an instant and immediately dominated that pale and perfect body, but Jin was holding him too tightly.  Squeezing him between impossibly strong thighs.  Angling his hips down and truly grinding that hardness against Hwoarang’s navel until the Korean was swooning with want.  He had to move further, push harder but he could only match movement for movement.

Jin stepped up the game, running his fingers through the mane of red and brown hair, feeling out the roots before firmly tugging back to expose the Korean’s throat.  He tore his lips away from the kiss to plant them at Hwoarang’s jaw line and nip his way down, teeth and tongue raking sharply against the salty skin.  He kept his grip firm in that bed of roots, holding the other man’s head firm until the struggles to escape subsided and he relaxed his fingers, petting the long mane with affectionate strokes.

“Ahhh,” Hwoarang sighed, trying to keep the grit of desire from his voice.  His throat was tight with holding back his moans.  The feel of fingers running through his hair, holding him back was comforting and a delicious contrast to the sharp bites that rained along his throat and collarbone.  He mindlessly brought his hands up to grip at Jin’s raven locks, jerking his head back and away from his throat.  It seemed that Jin welcomed the action and the Korean took the opportunity to pay his rival back in kind, snapping his head forward to latch onto Jin’s ear, breathing heavily into the delicate shell as he hungrily sucked on the lobe.  There were hands on his back, dull nails raking along his bare skin, pressing their chests together.  It was what he wanted.

He was having trouble holding his voice back as Jin’s sighs became more desperate.  The mewling cries reached a peak before dipping low into feral growls that sent a shiver up Hwoarang’s spine.  He had to move.  Had to move to what he wanted.  What his body wanted and what he definitely knew Jin wanted, from the way that he was grinding down against him.  Every move of his hips trapped their engorged arousals between them, awkwardly held back by cloth and position.

Hwoarang was the one to break first as his fingers abandoned those ebony locks in favour of divesting Jin of his shirt.  “Oh, god, it’s been too long…” he groaned once the garment flitted to the ground, exposing Jin’s torso to him.  The muscles, every bulge that was proof of his intense training was straining beneath a thin layer of skin.  Nipples that had never interested him before were hard, tight, and oh-so delectable.  He held Jin’s gaze, dark with arousal as his thumb grazed over that nub of hardened flesh.  Jin sucked in a breath, a whimper escaping his lips before quickly swallowing it and the sound transformed into a rumbling growl that spread through his chest.  Hwoarang panted, it was so right.

So _right_.

He looked into Jin’s eyes that were hard and strong.  He hoped his eyes were just as strong in that moment and he delighted in pinching down hard, taking the nipple between his thumb and index fingers and twisting it about.  Jin’s brows furrowed above his eyes that grew wide with surprise, followed with a gasping cry that finally escaped Jin’s lips.  That delicious sound truly broke all inhibitions within Hwoarang and urged him forward.  The sound shot straight through him, down his spine and straight to his groin, setting his cock to twitch within the confines of his too-tight pants.  It needed out.  He needed to move things along.  “H-ah, Kazama.  I-it sounds like you’re enjoying yourself.” He ground up, abandoning the nipple to rest his palms flatly on Jin’s hips.

“Ch, so are you,” the Japanese fighter replied, his voice was strained and thick with desire.  He reached out to trace his fingers over a dusky nipple, drawing a hiss from the Korean as he used his nails.  Their eyes were locked together as his hand moved further down, feeling along his strong chest and moving down to tease over taught stomach and abdomen.  His fingers stopped short of Hwoarang’s waistband and he quirked an eyebrow up.  “Hwoarang,” he breathed, leaning in suddenly to kiss him.  The contact was electric and left the redhead gasping for breath when he pulled away.  “I like it when you call me Jin,” he whispered.

Hwoarang was barely able to form a coherent thought; his cock was eating up all the blood that should have been in his brain and he let out a whimper.  Had he called him something else? He couldn’t remember.  He reached up to cup the other man’s face, bringing their lips close.  “Jin.” He said the name perfectly, emphasizing each tone of the name before kissing him fiercely.  His fingers tightened on Jin’s hips, digging deeply even as the hand that was not his moved past his waistband, pressing firmly against his cock and he broke the kiss, that name ringing on his lips again.  “Uh, Jin!” his hands flew down to touch his rival, seeking out the straining erection that was bunched uncomfortably against his abdomen.

Everything began to move quickly and both men acted on base instinct to remove enough clothing to get that delicious skin-on-skin contact.  They ripped at each other’s drawstrings, seeking to loosen its hold until greedy and grabby hands plunged in and down to grab at straining erections for the first time and drag feral growls from each other’s kiss-swollen mouths.

“S-s-shit…” Jin shuddered, resting his forehead against his rival’s shoulder.  The hand on him continued stroking and he squeezed the flesh in his hand to grab its owner’s attention.  “Ah… ah… ah, oh yes,” he panted, digging his teeth into Hwoarang’s tanned flesh.

“L-look at us, Jin,” the Korean panted, using his free hand to brace against Jin’s shoulder.  “You’d think we’ve never done this before… how embarrassing…” The feel of Jin’s distinctly male grip around his own shaft caused him to falter in his movements and he panted, steadying his breath to focus on making it last.

Jin’s shudders turned to laughter.  “I’ve just had more important things going on than… ah, oh god, than doing this, Hwoarang.  I’ve been busy… ung, fuck!”

Hwoarang growled, that one word getting him hotter than he ever imagined it could and he repeated it.  “Fuck…” he squeezed his hand around the hot flesh in his palm, jerking upwards to pull that delicious word from Jin’s mouth again.  He could have jerked away all day until Jin finally came.  The hand on his own flesh was swift and precise, fingers teasing just under the crown before pinching along the underside down to his balls.  He’d never played with himself in that way and the thought entered his mind of Jin using the technique on himself.  He could picture it: the raven-haired man lying awake at night with his hands down his pants as he pinched along the shaft, maybe cupping his balls and rolling them about ever so slightly.  Hwoarang grit his teeth and choked back a cry as the image was clear in his mind and sent a thrill up his spine.  Oh, god and Jin was touching him the same way! He flicked his wrist, grinding his thumb down the way he liked it, calling to mind all the techniques he’d used or tried in the past.  He wouldn’t falter under Jin’s obviously-skilled hand, he’d match him stroke-for-stroke and if he was going to break and start moaning with abandon, then damnit, Jin would too! He brought his legs up, parting them so that Jin slid down, sitting heavily between them so they were on an even level, making it easier to move with each other’s arousal in hand.  He watched Jin through heavy-lidded eyes, feeling the heat between them burning him up like a furnace.  He could have jerked off like that all day.

Jin, however, had other plans as he squirmed around, somehow pushing both their gi pants down, exposing their members to the cool air.  He gripped Hwoarang’s cock in his hand, looking at his rival with a smirk before pulling them together.  Their roughly calloused palms sandwiched the burning flesh, the undersides of their dicks throbbing against one another in a connection that caused both Jin and Hwoarang to cry out in unison.  It was soft, baby-soft skin that was so sensitive that a gentle breeze would have felt like heaven.  Their bodies rocked together, mouths seeking each other out to gasp and groan into and against each other.  Wet tongues wrapped around expletives and exclamations.  Sloppy lips swallowed up any confessions that the heated encounter inspired in their lust-addled minds and the two lost themselves in the driving grind.

Hwoarang stroked with fervent purpose, his hips jerking forward, his hand familiar with the action at least and his fingers worked their shafts the way he’d have while alone.  Having another man’s dick pressed against his was a delightful change, and it being Jin’s dick, his body heaving against his was even more delicious.  It made him hotter and he drank in the sight before him; Jin sitting between his thighs, dick pulled over his waistband and thrust into their fists.  Hair tossed back, heavy blush along his cheeks.  He shivered when he felt Jin pull their bodies hard against each other and thrust against his rival’s cock, grinding against that silky soft flesh.  Their cocks moved independently in that tight tunnel formed by their hands, stroking each other on the up and down stroke.  “Oh, yeah…” he moaned into Jin’s mouth, earning him a growl in return.  He was losing his mind.  He felt Jin rest his brow against his shoulder, biting down hard.  “Oh, god, Jin…”

“I’m so close… Hwoarang…” he choked, the name turning to a growl.

“I don’t think… I’m not…” Hwoarang tried to keep moving, though he was a few strokes behind Jin.  Deep in the back of his mind he knew that that fact should piss him off, but Jin’s thumb was moving over the head of his cock.  Grazing across and parting the opening at the end, roughly dragging his calloused digit across and everything came crashing down around him.  The solid, hard sensation was enough to push him over the edge and he bit town on Jin’s shoulder, muffling the other man’s name as his release overtook him.  He convulsed against the other man, his rival, his lover, whatever as long as Jin didn’t let go of him.  Kept squeezing him in that awesome way that kept the waves of release rolling through his body and over his hand.

Jin wasn’t quite so reserved and Hwoarang’s name was a mantra panted under his breath as his seed mingled and coated their fingers.  Once he’d finished he flopped forward, resting his sweat-soaked brow against Hwoarang’s shoulder that was also slicked with perspiration.  They rested together for a long moment before pulling away.

Hwoarang reached up to pull their mouths together for a sweetly sated kiss.  The eager passion was gone leaving them with the deeper meaning and affection of the act as their breaths mingled.  Their hands braced against muscled shoulders and chests before they parted, fully sober and staring at each other.  “That was…” Hwoarang started, feeling his heart racing.

“Thanks,” Jin smiled, cleaning himself up before tucking his softening member away.

“Yeah, thanks back at ya,” Hwoarang said, doing the same.  “Y’know, maybe you should send Devil to his room more often?” he grinned.

Jin smiled, tilting his head to look warmly at him before standing.  “It’s strange…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I feel really strong all of the sudden… it’s like Devil isn’t even there…”

“Thanks, Kazama,” Hwoarang said, slinging an arm around him and pulling him close.  “I knew I was good, but…”

“Don’t take all the credit, ‘Rang,” Jin rolled his eyes.  “Why is everything about you?”

“It’s not,” the redhead laughed.  “Only a few things are, and this is one of them!”

“Well, if you’re going to take credit for that, then we didn’t really get much of a workout training-wise.  We’re not going to be in shape for the tournament.”

Hwoarang quirked a brow, “Who was it who jumped me?” he asked.  “Besides, we’re both in great shape.  They say fucking is a great workout.”

“That wasn’t fucking,” Jin blushed through a scowl.

“We can fix that, Kazama,” Hwoarang said, leering at his companion.  “Just give me a few minutes to recharge.”

“Ugh, will you get your head out of your pants and back on the tournament?” Jin threw his hands up, turning to walk to the cabin before looking over his shoulder.  “Let’s get ready to leave in a couple days, alright?”

“Sure thing,” Hwoarang sprang over to walk with him.  “Can we hit the hot springs now, and maybe get something to eat afterwards? I’m hungry!” he really wanted a nice bath, and sharing a private pool with Jin again was holding more possibilities, given their recent activities.  Not that he would try anything, but the idea of being able to annoy Jin more than usual was suddenly very appealing, given that he could touch him to do it.  He secretly hoped they got a private room as they returned to the cabin before heading into town.


	31. Chapter 31

The two fighters noticed something very different when they walked into the small town of Onoaida. Even by Inoue’s onsen, on the outskirts of town there were more people than usual. Even more disturbing was the strange, intangible but palpable excitement that hung in the air.

“Good morning!” came the welcome when Jin pushed the door open to the tiny hot springs building. The warm greeting quickly turned to one of surprise and excitement. “Oh, Jinny!” the older woman rushed out from behind her table where she’d been sitting with her friend and hugged the darker man. “Jinny, Momo and I were just talking about you.” She pulled the fighter along to sit, Hwoarang followed along, amusement written all over his face.

“Jinny, we were starting to get worried. You were here and then you were gone,” Momo said, offering both men a tray of cakes. “I saw your handsome friend here and gave him your tea and that was the last I saw of him! You didn’t even come back to say thanks!” she looked genuinely hurt. Jin felt guilty for having caused her to worry.

“Ah, that would be my fault,” Hwoarang chimed in, casually leaning on Jin, earning him a sharp look from the other man. “I’ve never been here before and I convinced Jin to take me through the island.”

Jin felt Hwoarang nudge him and he nodded, “I’m sorry Momo, Inoue… I really wanted to take him to see Jomon-sugi. We were getting a little bored staying in my cabin…” The stern look that the women were giving him seemed to soften and Jin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, you should let us know the next time you two want to get away together! We can call our friends, you’d stay with them for very cheap!” Momo giggled and Jin blanched at the way she said it. “And you,” she continued, motioning to Hwoarang. “Now that you’re back, you have to do something about your hair. It’s so beautiful, but it’s obvious you don’t take care of it!”

“Ah… what?” Hwoarang asked, suddenly looking very confused and Jin laughed, watching as the Korean reached up to run a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “What’s wrong with it?” Jin looked the other man up and down, rolling his eyes when he saw that Hwoarang had no idea.

“You’re all roots! You need a touch-up!” she dug around in a box behind the counter, pulling out a card and handing it to him. “My niece has a salon. Visit her and she’ll take care of you.”

“Ah, thank you?” Hwoarang said awkwardly causing Jin to laugh more. He’d never met Inoue’s daughter before, but had heard that she was a bit of a black sheep in the family, whatever that meant. If he had to judge from the way that the two sisters behaved, as well as Nana’s tendencies, he had a feeling that this salon would be crazy.

“So, what’s with all these people?” Hwoarang asked, shooting Jin a sideways glance as the other man tried to stifle his laughter. “There’s a lot more people here than before. Is there something happening in town?”

“Oh, everyone is gathering for the festival!” Inoue said, indicating the people who were in the onsen office. “We’re very busy because they’ve all traveled to see the competition tonight. Are you two going to see it? They’re having it on the beach.”

“Competition?” Hwoarang’s eyes flashed, earning him an elbow in the ribs.

“Ah, we’ll see, Inoue. I’ve got a couple things I wanted to do…” Jin tried to brush off the invitation with grace; he wasn’t in the mood for crowds of people right then. He still wanted to spend some time meditating to properly deal with the beast inside him. He’d locked it away earlier while he’d finally made a move on Hwoarang – something he’d fully enjoyed, despite Devil’s threats afterwards – and he wanted to strengthen his mind for the backlash from his actions. He had no doubt he could handle it, but also he knew that attending the festival would just distract him – even though he really would have liked to go. “Is there a room available?” he asked, hoping against hope that one of the private rooms was still available to them.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a smile that didn’t show it. “All the private rooms are booked. Some of the pools outside are open, though.” She looked thoughtfully out the window to check. “Yes, yes, the larger ones only have a couple other people in them. It’s a nice day so you should get outside. Get some colour in your face.”

Jin smiled though he really wanted to grumble as she handed him a bucket with towels. He supposed sitting with a couple other people would be fine, so long as Hwoarang was there. His was the only company he really wanted right then.

The Korean seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself as they walked towards the showers. Undressing was a painless affair, nothing embarrassing like it had been for Jin that first time. He folded his clothes and set them in a basket, pushing it into its shelf and turning back to the little shower booths. Everyone was outside in the onsen. It was just him and Hwoarang in there, the only sound being the pleasant chatter of the other man, sprouting his opinion on one thing or another.

Jin stepped up behind him, his broad back exposed as the redhead sat on the bathing stool. The little showerhead was raining water down upon him, though failing to wash away the dirt from their training and fooling around that morning. He briefly thought to himself that they wouldn’t be let in the spring if they weren’t properly washed up. It was that thought that drove him to reach out and grab a brush and scrub Hwoarang’s back.

The redhead’s talking stopped abruptly and he peered over his shoulder a fraction, his eyebrow quirking at the sight of a naked Jin washing his back. The Japanese fighter pursed his lips and continued scrubbing, keeping the silence between them and watching Hwoarang’s amber orbs as they seemed to dance with ideas.

“Sitting under the spray isn’t going to do it this time. You’re dirty all over and they won’t let us in if we’re covered in mud.”

Hwoarang straightened up and leaned into the contact, bowing his head forward. “Who’s idea was it to press me into the mud again, Kazama?”

Jin grinned, “Well, maybe I won’t do it again…”

“Oi, Kazama. Don’t be a dick. Next time you get to be on bottom and I’ll grind you into the mud.”

Jin’s eyes went wide at the lecherous tone in the other’s voice. He was beginning to regret that none of the private rooms were available. The images of their training encounter earlier that day flooded back to him and he could see in clear, vivid detail the reversal of their roles, with him on the bottom and Hwoarang pressing, grinding him into the mud.

“ _I’m not surprised. Make you come and you’re a fucking whore for his filthy…_ ”

‘ _Shut up!_ ’ Jin squeezed his eyes shut, slamming a barrier down around Devil’s disparaging remarks and silencing the beast in an instant. He opened his eyes again, staring down at Hwoarang’s back, the mud swirling away in the spray of the water. It had taken a second, a split second to lock that beast out and Jin was alone in his mind again.

His hands faltered in their task, he’d done it! It had been so easy and he was overcome with a strong sense of freedom. He could do what he wanted without worrying about a snide, distracting remark from that beast. Hwoarang cocked his head to look back at him and he began scrubbing again with renewed vigor, cleaning his friend’s back and urging him to finish up so they could get out to the springs. He wanted to get out and enjoy the day, enjoy his freedom and enjoy Hwoarang. There were some things he wanted to do right then, but the hot springs showers were not the place and he didn’t trust himself alone with his lover in that place. He’d wait until that evening before approaching the other man on that topic…

+

Hwoarang’s lecherous glint had died down to a friendly gleam and he’d begun chattering about the upcoming tournament as they left the showering room. He continued speculating about the competition as they walked outside with their white terrycloth towels wrapped around their waists. “I wonder what kind of new arenas they’ll have ready for us this time,” he said, casually removing his towel from his waist and throwing it behind him before climbing into the water.

Jin watched, admiring the curve of the other man’s ass before he caught himself. That was the worst place to think such things; he quickly removed his towel and folded it before slipping into the water beside his friend. The pool was fairly large, meant for corporate groups, no doubt, but was very comfortable for him and he didn’t even notice the other couple that they were sharing with. He slid into the water, feeling the steaming liquid seep into his skin, watching it rise until it finally stopped at his chest. That was when he noticed it: a bright red, round mark on his shoulder. Definitely a bite, definitely male, definitely Hwoarang’s. “Fuck…” he slid deeper into the water, noting with some dismay that the water didn’t become murky until somewhere around his waist. He tried to ignore it, but now that he knew it was there, it was always visible from the corner of his eye. A big, red mark hinting at what he’d done. He frowned at the thought that what they’d shared was obvious, on display for everyone to see. He shifted irritatedly; Hwoarang was sitting so close, it was obvious who had bitten him.

He looked over at the other people in their pool, hoping that they didn’t come over to talk to him. He just wanted to relax and get out of there to put his shirt back on and hide the mark. He thought of giving Hwoarang a bite to match, but figured that he’d probably wear it as a badge of pride. “Here’s my boyfriend and he’s a biter!” Jin shook his head and sank lower into the pool. The other people would have no reason to talk to him, that was if Hwoarang hadn’t started chatting them up and inviting them over. Jin leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes and hoping for a second that he could just disappear. Hwoarang – while endearing – had a habit of being too gregarious for his own good. He kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing. He was content to let Hwoarang make friends with the tourists while he let the hot water soak into his bones. He’d been looking forward to this, and he probably wouldn’t get another chance to visit an onsen until after the tournament so he resolved to thoroughly enjoy it. If he didn’t open his eyes he wouldn’t see that red mark and he wouldn’t have to answer any questions about it. He relaxed further into the water, listening to the hum of conversation as Hwoarang chatted up a storm. He wasn’t being called into the conversation and if he concentrated, he could block out the words, just relaxing. Devil was still locked away in the white room he’d constructed and the atmosphere of the onsen was making him feel deliciously mellow. He sighed deciding that it was the most peace he’d had in a long while when he felt Hwoarang reach out to poke him.

“Hey, Jin, you awake?” Hwoarang nudged him in the chest again and he opened his eyes to look flatly at him. “Jin, you’ve got a fan, wake up!”

“Hmm?” he opened his eyes to see what exactly his redheaded lover was talking about. He looked from Hwoarang to the other two Koreans that had moved to sit opposite them. “What?” he asked, frowning as he sat up and looked from one face to the other.

Hwoarang turned and quickly rattled off something that he didn’t understand before turning back. “Ah, their Japanese is alright and I told them you don’t speak Korean so we’re going to try this cultural exchange in your mother tongue, Kazama. So,” he turned to the men. “Yeah, this is the Jin Kazama that you know.”

“Wait, what?” Jin asked as politely as he could, trying to figure out what Hwoarang had brought him into. They appeared to be middle-aged, maybe in their early forties. They were smiling politely at him, relaxing back into the water and didn’t appear to want him dead, though he couldn’t imagine how they knew him. At least they weren’t assassins from the Zaibatsu.

“We’re so happy to have met you, Kazama-san,” the man closest to him said, nodding his head in respect. “My name is Dak-Ho and this is my partner Soo.” He indicated the man beside him and Jin nodded politely at him, still confused as to why they claimed to know him. He didn’t recognize them at all. “We were telling Hwoarang that we’ve enjoyed watching the two of you fight at the King of Iron Fist Tournaments, though I have to admit that seeing the both of you in person is so much different than what they show on television.”

Jin quirked an eyebrow at Hwoarang who seemed far too excited. “Jin,” the redhead reached out to poke him and he frowned, moving to poke back. “These guys watch our tournaments; they even get into arguments over who is better!”

“Oh lord,” Jin groaned, keeping his smile in place as he looked back at the pair. They had met some fans!

“I used to take Tae Kwon-Do when I was a kid, so I always cheer for Hwoarang!” Soo said enthusiastically before rattling something off in Korean to the redhead.

“But I always liked your style better, Kazama-san,” the other man, Dak-Ho commented warmly. “You changed it from the first time I saw you, but I still like it. I suppose I like strong punches over fancy kicks,” he looked back to Soo with an expression that Jin couldn’t mistake as anything other than affection and it suddenly hit him. They really were two _couples_ sitting in that hot spring.

“They always make it look like you two are big enemies in a huge rivalry, but it’s nice to meet you both and see things are so much different.”

“I told you it was just to make people watch,” Soo beamed and Jin watched as he reached out to nudge his partner under the water. At least, he thought it was a nudge.

Dak-Ho seemed to jump a bit and then elbow his friend in the side before turning back to Hwoarang. “Will you be going to the next tournament? We have tickets and we were hoping…”

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Hwoarang broke in when the man began fumbling over his words with his thick accent. “We’ve got some unfinished business, don’t we, Kazama?”

“Yes, yes, we have a big rivalry,” Jin yawned. “Nice that they made it seem bigger than it really was. That’s just like grandfather…”

“But that’s how they sell tickets. Invite some crazy fighters, invent storylines… it’s almost as fake as wrestling, only the fighting is real,” Hwoarang nodded, obviously happy about that fact.

“We heard there will be some new fighters this year and the television commercials showed some old fighters will be coming back too! It should be really dramatic!” Dak-Ho said with a knowing look on his face. “We’re meeting some other people when we get there, since it’s the first time that there are two fighters from Korea in the tournament. We decided to pool our money and go to show our support!”

Jin could see Hwoarang’s expression falter and he tried to recall what other Koreans had fought in the past. Was it a new fighter? He’d been so preoccupied with his father and grandfather that he couldn’t remember anybody else that had been there… well, aside from Hwoarang. The redhead seemed to be repressing a smile that only quirked the side of his face and Jin suddenly realized who it would be. “This other Korean…” he started slowly, earning him a look from Hwoarang that said everything he needed to know.

“It’s Baek Doo-San,” Soo said happily, completely oblivious to the events that had happened to the older fighter only a short time earlier. It seemed that Baek’s “death” hadn’t been part of the storyline that had been broadcast. “We’ve made signs and everything, so we hope you two fight well!”

Jin tried to smile, but couldn’t help noticing Soo’s gaze shifting towards his shoulder every so often. He tried to cover it with his hand, but that only drew Dak-Ho’s attention to it and he felt his face begin to burn with embarrassment. The two men shot each other knowing looks and Jin glared at Hwoarang, wishing that the other man knew the kind of embarrassment he was enduring at that moment.

The redhead was oblivious. ‘ _Figures…_ ’

“Oh… I nearly forgot.” Dak-Ho picked his watch out of the onsen bucket without actually looking at it. “I’m very sorry,” he said, looking at the two fighters and winking at Jin. “Please excuse us, but I just realized we’re late to meet some friends.”

“Sure thing,” Hwoarang beamed at them as they stood to climb out of the water, wrapping their towels around their waists and leaving.

Jin watched them leave, seeing the casual way they strode to the building and thought with a sinking feeling that they didn’t look like they were in a hurry. He looked back at the bite mark, seeing the dark bruising that was hinting around the edges and shivered, hoping it faded before he got to the tournament… He puffed out a breath and put the embarrassment from his mind. “So it looks like Baek got away somehow.”

“And he’ll be at the tournament too!” Hwoarang beamed, oblivious to the two men who had left them alone so quickly. “I’ll find him when we get there and tell him what happened,” his excitement faltered and Jin could feel the wave of anger washing over him, turning the excitement to a somber mood. “Those bastards probably told him I just ditched him… left him there to rot.” Hwoarang shook his head, “I still can’t believe the shit that I _did_ do for those assholes… I can’t believe I went in there knowing I was going to kill… that I did… and Baek fucking knows…”

Jin suddenly felt an intensely strong sense of deja-vu as Hwoarang trailed off, his expression becoming dark. They’d been down this road before. The whole situation felt too familiar, only this time it was the Korean dwelling on dark thoughts and Jin was left wanting to do something about it. He watched for a long moment, wondering if this was how he looked when he was battling Devil and he realized why Hwoarang had acted the way he did; touching him and saying loud things to distract him. It was like an epiphany into the workings of Hwoarang’s actions, and into his own mind.

A wave of realization struck him like a damn thunderbolt and he did the one thing he could. Firmly, purposefully Jin reached across to touch Hwoarang’s shoulder, digging his fingers in and sliding closer to his rival until their thighs were touching beneath the water. “Hey, do you really think Baek would believe them?” he asked, having no idea where his speech was going but speaking from his heart and knowing it was enough to trust in. “He’s your father, Hwoarang. No matter what happened, he’ll believe in you… just like my mother does.” His fingers loosened their grip in his shoulder when Hwoarang looked at him with wide, amber eyes. “Neither of us is fucking pure… nothing is perfect.” The words echoed what Hwoarang had been trying to tell him before and he finally understood everything. Everything Jin had been afraid of looked so different when viewed from the other side of the glass. He couldn’t understand Hwoarang’s problems, but he could try and make him feel better and it was with half-selfish intentions that he reached out to grab the other man’s jaw, tilting it towards him and rushing in to kiss him.

He’d meant to kiss him softly, chastely, comfortingly but the moment they touched Hwoarang opened his mouth and turned the act into a deep and aggressive affair. The Korean pulled him into a crushing embrace and Jin was grateful for their moderate privacy in that public place. Hwoarang kissed him with heated passion that made a shiver rush up his spine and settle in his belly. He could have melted into that mouth, feeling the tension in the other man just release in that one act, burning him.

Then he remembered where they were.

Hwoarang seemed to come to his senses too and quickly pulled back, still keeping close, but his amber eyes darting around to see if anybody had noticed.

Jin gazed back at the building where he knew that Inoue and Momo were still chatting away. It seemed that nobody had really seen the kiss, but he suddenly felt very uncomfortable staying there. He looked back at the other man before they both nodded and exited the pool to get dressed and head out to get something to eat.

There were too many people around that day, too many people and not enough privacy for what they were aching for.

+++

Hwoarang didn’t want to admit just how much better he felt after his little pep talk. The kiss had been a release, but his words had really hit home. Heh, was Baek really stupid enough to believe the people who’d held him against his will? He’d find the other man and explain everything. It wasn’t worth worrying over just then and he hated how his guilt over Min’s death was still bothering him. It really wasn’t his fault and he shouldn’t have let it affect him like that, not when he had an empty belly calling to be filled. His unsated desire to further the kiss Jin had started would wait until later.

The door to the Yamamoto Sky Café shut behind the two fighters setting off a chime somewhere in the store and one of the attendants welcomed them warmly before directing them to a table. There were many guests packed into every seat imaginable, yet they were shown to a table with a view of the beach and Jin sighed at their luck as he settled into his chair. Hwoarang didn’t even glance at the menu, instead he looked through the polished window at the people who were setting up for the fireworks display that night. He really wanted to go to it, but he knew that Jin wasn’t up for it. He probably wanted to rest, which would have been a good idea, except that Hwoarang _really_ wanted to see the competition.

“Aren’t you going to look at the menu?” Jin’s question drifted over to him.

“Mah, what’s the point? Nana will just tell me what I’m getting anyways,” he said, flipping open the laminated pages to look at the pictures. The action seemed to cue the shop’s eccentric owner to appear with a smile and curtsey before she leaned in close to look at Jin with wide eyes.

“Something’s different!” she announced immediately looking between the two men before setting her sights on Hwoarang. “Are you two excited about the festival?” she finally asked, scratching her head and Hwoarang breathed out a sigh of relief, wondering if their little bump n’ grind from earlier was that obvious.

“A-ah, probably not,” Jin said, looking down at his menu to hopefully change the topic.

“Aww, that’s alright, you can see them from all over town, so you don’t have to go to the beach, although it’s much prettier if you do!” she winked and looked down at the menu. “Ah, please come to the kitchen, I have to determine something,” she pointed suddenly at Hwoarang, pulling him to his feet and dragging him into the back room.

He looked back to Jin who seemed to wave goodbye and he disappeared into the kitchen with a silent frown on his face. “What?” he asked when he was brought to a pot that was bubbling on the stove. The kitchen was small but well organized. The pots and pans were shining clean in their places on the racks and Hwoarang marveled that he could quite possibly eat off the floor.

“I knew from the moment I saw you that you’d be good for Jin,” she said as she picked up a ladle to stir the contents of the pot.

“Ah, really?” he asked, feeling a little odd at the statement, considering how strained their first days together had been. “What makes you say that?”

“He smiles,” she said, looking at him with a calculating eye before reaching to the cupboard and withdrawing a shaker of spice.

“Yeah, he did that before I came along,” Hwoarang rolled his eyes, wondering why he was even there. “That guy is Mr. Quiet and Polite.”

“You’re wrong,” she shook her head with a knowing smile that just pissed Hwoarang off with its smugness. “He’d smile, but it was so artificial I wanted to fix it somehow… throw laughing powder in his squid cakes or something… I didn’t like it.” She spoke with startling seriousness and Hwoarang wondered if she was having a moment of sanity or if he should even bother to wonder what ‘squid cakes’ were. “He would smile to be polite and hide what he really felt, but since you got here it has been a _real_ smile. I like it. He’s so beautiful, don’t you think?” suddenly her hand shot up to grab his chin and she pulled him close to her, bright eyes peering into his and he felt a more than a little uncomfortable. “No doubt about it,” she sighed, a small smile quirking on her face. “The beans wouldn’t agree with you today.” She released him and set to stirring the pot. “Your food will be ready soon. Better get back to him…”

Hwoarang felt as if he’d been under a spell and stumbled out of the kitchen as a resounding crash echoed behind him. He didn’t look back. He didn’t dare to see what she was doing. He returned to his seat wondering if she had really needed him back there or if it had just been an excuse to talk to him about Jin. It wasn’t her fucking business, but then again, she seemed a bit too crazy to be a nosy bitch about it. Well, whatever, so he knew that he really had had an impact on Jin. That brought a smile to his lips, just the reaffirmation that he was significant in the others life – even though he already knew it – made him gleam with pride. He trotted back to their table, stopping short when he saw that his lover was talking to someone. She was leaning casually against the table, her tight jeans clinging to her curvaceous hips and he watched her laugh at something Jin said that he was certain as fuck hadn’t been _that_ funny. Jin seemed to look up and glance across the room to where Hwoarang had stopped. The smile that was already plastered on his face seemed to crack; turning into something brighter and more real and in that moment, Hwoarang thought he knew what Nana was talking about. It wasn’t an overly exuberant smile, but it seemed to brighten the room and draw him in like a beacon. “Hey, Jin,” he said, smiling at the girl as he settled down across from his lover. She looked surprised to see him, a moment of shock that quickly passed and she smiled back, her eyes dancing with ideas that Hwoarang knew all too well as she looked over at another girl – presumably her friend – to give the female-equivalent of the thumbs up.

Hwoarang raised an eyebrow at the other man, silently questioning what was happening. Jin smiled at him, a little more subdued and his eyes were wide like a deer caught in headlights. Hwoarang didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that the other man had been surprised, trapped by her chitchat and far too polite to tell her to piss off. The Korean would have had no trouble shooting her down, but Hwoarang felt like being creative and winked at his rival as the girl turned back to them.

“My friend and I are here for the festival,” she said, looking at Jin in a way that made Hwoarang’s eye twitch. “Would you two like to join us at the beach?”

The question was innocent enough, but it struck Hwoarang with a need to keep what was his. Shove her face in the fact that she’d never get his man. “I don’t know, what do you think, Jinny?” He asked the question as gaily as he could manage, feeling like a fucking fool but keeping a straight face, even with the priceless look Jin shot him. His face hurt as he tried to keep his expression light and innocent as Jin looked between him and the girl and back again. After a few moments, he sharply squeezed Jin’s hand to make him say something to back up his story. He tilted his head down, giving Jin a smouldering look that told him to fucking move.

“Ah, sorry,” the other fighter said in the most polite and apologetic way Hwoarang had ever heard someone ask forgiveness without actually bowing. “We’d love to see the fireworks for you, but I had a… _surprise_ planned for Hwoarang when we go to the, uh, festival tonight, so…”

Jin was a terrible liar so Hwoarang broke in, almost springing from his seat while he clasped the fumbling fighter’s hand tighter. “Oh, Jin! You kept saying you didn’t want to go to the festival and all this time you had a surprise planned?” He looked at the girl. “It’s our anniversary, you know!” he gave Jin his best loving look and tightened his grip when the other man tried to pull away. He smiled up at the girl that was watching them with a mix of disappointment and excitement on her face.

After a minute Hwoarang hardened his stare, clearly telling her to fuck off which seemed to jolt her into action. “Well, maybe we’ll see each other there… congratulations!” she blurted out before turning to rush over to her friend.

The moment they had left the restaurant, Hwoarang released his grip on Jin’s hand, who quickly ripped it away as he looked around. “Our anniversary?!” he asked in a harsh whisper.

“You’re a terrible liar, Kazama. You wanted her to leave you alone, right?”

“Well, she was just trying to be friendly…”

“She was trying to get a date,” Hwoarang kept his voice terse as he tried to understand how Jin could not see what she’d been trying. Maybe Jin had known, but didn’t want to be rude and turn her away. “Besides, I thought you liked me.”

“I do!” Jin said a little too quickly, making Hwoarang grin widely. “Well… you like me too!”

They stared at each other for a few long moments filled with comically uncomfortable silence before Hwoarang cracked and reached out with his foot to run the toe of his shoe up Jin’s leg. “I was just fooling around, you think I like being all lovey dovey like that? Besides, you know I like you, and if you don’t believe me, I’ll show you how much I like you later. Right now I wanna see this competition, Kazama. So what’s this surprise?”

“Ah, uh, you’ll see when we get there, ‘Rang,” Jin folded his arms over his chest and frowned. “As soon as I think of it, you’ll be the first to know.”


	32. Chapter 32

Onoaida seemed to be thrumming with new life as the two fighters stepped out of the café and into the streets.  The excitement of the festival filled the air with a tangible thrum as the locals took to the streets to sell their wares to the scores of tourists that were packing the narrow rows. Nana had explained the details of the different booths and artists that were set up on the other side of town, and Hwoarang was more than happy to wander up and down the streets to see what was happening. He was hoping to find a bar while they were out, and if wandering around and looking at painted rocks made Jin happy, he’d be happy, so long as he found a place that served beer.

Jin led the way down a street and Hwoarang saw it as they sped past; there, shining like a beacon in the light of day, was what looked like a biker bar.  His feet faltered as they walked by and he felt himself drawn to the dingy building.  He needed a beer, though when he tried to get Jin’s attention, the other man was halfway down the street and he had to rush to catch up.  He grumbled and committed the bar’s location to memory as he followed the dark-haired man who was practically pushing people out of the way.  Hwoarang grinned and stepped around a few people, only then seeing the booth that Jin had been intent on getting to.  He looked up at the homemade sign that declared that takoyaki was sold there. 

Jin marched up to the stall and politely asked the elderly man behind the counter for two orders, without even asking Hwoarang what he wanted.  The old man seemed to spring to life and he moved with a flourish as he set to prepare the order and Jin leaned in to watch him cook.  Hwoarang stood back and inspected the sign above the stall; it reminded him of the flying fish restaurant, though this one had a giant octopus rising out of the ocean, its tentacles flailing as a smiling man in a boat hoisted a spear at the beast. He shook his head; it must have been some Yakushima thing to have such strange signs. There was the possibility that the two booths were somehow related; were there really _that_ many quirky people on such a little island? His thoughts immediately flew back to the onsen where Momo and Inoue were probably laughing drunkenly and he shook his head as Jin turned to him.

“I hope you like fried octopus balls,” Jin lifted the two carry-away boxes to show how much he’d bought.

Hwoarang’s mouth opened and closed, though he couldn’t get over the one response that he wanted to fire back at him right then.  Why, oh why did Jin have to ask him if he liked octopus _balls_? His perverted mind got to churning and he fought to stifle the laughter that was forcing its way out.

Jin’s expression faltered somewhat as Hwoarang’s internal battle raged and he lowered his outstretched hands that bore the takeout trays, then dropping them to his sides before he placed them firmly on his hips and gave the other man a look that told him not to even dare. “Ta-ko-ya-ki,” he clarified after a few minutes. “Don’t be a pervert,” he added.

Hwoarang’s mirth died down and his stomach spoke up, grumbling loudly. “Sure thing, Jin. I’m careful about whose, erm, I mean what balls I have in my mouth, but right now I’m so fucking hungry I’ll eat anything.” Before Jin could reply to the innuendo-laden comment, he reached out to snatch the containers from the blushing fighter and carried them away to find a place where they could eat.

The streets were more crowded than usual, though once they’d passed the main road that would lead down to the fireworks display; they sat on the curb and balanced their takeout boxes on their knees. The octopus balls were very tasty and Hwoarang inhaled all five takoyaki balls before turning to Jin and sneaking his chopsticks in to steal one of his.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“You need to work on your defense,” Hwoarang laughed and made a show of eating his stolen food.

“If you keep that up, you’re not going to get your surprise.”

That statement shut the Korean up and he bowed his head, eyes dancing with excitement. “There’s a surprise?”

“Not any more…” Jin coyly looked back to his tray, seemingly intent on leaving that conversation hanging while he ate.

Hwoarang wasn’t the type to let things like that hang. “Does it have anything to do with earlier today?” he asked, snaking an arm around his lover and giving him a squeeze.

“What? N-no!” Jin almost jumped out of his skin. “There isn’t a surprise, so...” he trailed off as the hand on his side moved down to his hip and he shivered slightly.

“Ha, you’re a real tease, you know that, Kazama?” Hwoarang leaned in close while he reached in with his left hand and skillfully lifted another octopus ball with his chopsticks. “That’s going to cost you.”

“H-hey!” Jin exclaimed, reaching over with his own chopsticks to rescue his stolen meal. “Quit stealing my food, ‘Rang.  I was nice enough to treat you and this is how you show your gratitude?”

“You get distracted too easy, Kazama. Your defense will be easy to break at the tournament if all I have to-- hey!” his taunt was cut short as Jin overpowered him and pushed him to the ground.

“Aw, forgive me,” Jin said, pressing his body against Hwoarang’s and snagging the takoyaki ball before pulling away.

Hwoarang sat up and brushed himself off. The few people on the street had stopped to watch their struggle. He shot a couple a dirty look before flipping them off. “Fucking tourists,” he muttered, earning him a punch in the arm. “What the hell was that for?”

“You’re a tourist,” Jin said, merrily chewing his food as loud as he could. There was one ball left in the tray and Hwoarang eyed it as Jin lifted it, dipping it into the sauce and raising it to his mouth. Jin paused to look at him before reaching up to offer for Hwoarang to take a bite.

The redhead moved closer, bracing a hand on the ground between them as he leaned in, keeping his eyes focused on Jin’s as he opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the ball. He reached up with his free hand to hold Jin’s hand steady; his tongue snaked out to guide the meal into his mouth as he bit down, though he never looked away from those dark eyes that were locked with his. “Mmmm,” he mumbled around the bite as he pulled back. “Thank you, Kazama.”

“A-ah,” Jin said, hastily bringing the remainder of the ball to his mouth and popping it inside.  He didn’t put on a show for his redheaded lover, though Hwoarang didn’t mind. 

“So where to now?” the Korean changed the subject as they both climbed to their feet to dispose of the food containers.  “I've never been to one of these things, but I’ll guess that they start the show when it's dark… so we're running out of time to get a good spot.”

“An hour at least,” Jin looked down the street towards some vendors that were arranged close to the beach. “Hey, I've got an idea,” he said, grabbing Hwoarang by the hand and pulling him towards the crowd of people that were gathering.

“H-hey, Kazama!” the redhead huffed as Jin pulled him around a large couple and towards a booth of sweets.

“Want a tasty treat?” he asked. “They only sell these things during the festival and I haven't had one in years!” He didn't even wait for a response and turned to a young girl sitting at her family's vendor booth, quickly ordering two.

“Jinny,” Hwoarang asked, coming up behind Jin and hanging over his shoulders. “What the hell are they?”

The Japanese man turned around, holding in each hand what looked like a flower created from a breaded cup and a scoop of something sticky sweet inside. “Tasty treats!” he smiled and pushed one towards the Korean. “It’s homemade ice cream with fruits from the fruit gardens.  They’re only sold at the festivals.”

“Uh-huh,” Hwoarang arched an eyebrow as he inspected the sweet that Jin had pressed to his hand. He looked up again to the homemade sign that hung above their heads and then looked back at the treat again. “Riiiiight,” he mumbled before sighing and lifting the snack to his mouth to take a bite.

+

Jin looked up to where Hwoarang had been staring. The wooden sign for the stand was the same as it had been when he was a kid, though brighter thanks to a fresh coat of paint - he didn't remember the giant ice cream cup being that shade of pink - though it had always been the logo for the old Watanabe stand. The image had originally frightened him, but now the idea of a giant ice cream cup chasing down children with a speech bubble of 'Tasty Treats!' was too familiar to make him think twice.

Jin turned to his own cup, licking at the softening ice cream before taking a bite. The moment the fruity flavour met his pallet he was struck by a strong sense of nostalgia for his childhood. Devil's rustling about - which he'd been ignoring successfully - seemed to fade to silence and he was suddenly inspired to climb a tree... or swim in the ocean. “Let's go down to the beach.”

“Sounds good to me,” Hwoarang bit into his cup without noticing the juice that had dribbled down his chin.

Jin didn't say anything.

+++

Hwoarang pushed his way past the crowds of people who were slowly moving towards the area set up to view the fireworks. It was a nice spot with benches and chairs arranged far enough away from the actual canons so nobody would get hurt. He looked at the crowd already seated and frowned; it was just too hokey for him. He turned back to Jin and gave him a wink as he reached back to take the other man's hand. He threaded their fingers, not wanting to lose him or have him pull away when he made his move. The crowd moved forward, pressing in all around them and Hwoarang skillfully moved through the group, pulling Jin behind him as he made for the fence set up along the side before he ripped a hole for them to sneak through.

Jin tried pulling back, of course, though Hwoarang couldn't hear his protests for the all chatter around them. Nobody had noticed them yet and with a final tug he pulled Jin through the barrier and onto the soft sand beyond.

They collapsed in a heap, hidden by the high fence that was set up to keep people from wandering towards the cannons. In an instant they went from being completely surrounded to being completely alone. Hwoarang quickly climbed off the other man and pulled him to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Jin asked as he allowed himself to be led further along the beach and away from the fence.

“I wasn't about to sit there all nice and wait for the show to start,” Hwoarang puffed when they'd passed the cannons and were truly alone further along the sandy beach. “We can watch it here, just like nature intended.”

Jin shot him a wary look and rolled his eyes. “If you're thinking what I think you're thinking...” Jin's cheeks flushed a soft pink and he twinged as if he'd been stuck with a pin. “Ah, I mean, I don't think having sex on the beach is such a good idea.”

“Hey, Jinny,” Hwoarang wrapped an arm around the other man. “I'd never dream of it... well, I mean, I've _dreamt_ of it, but even I know that shit's uncomfortable. I'd be the one picking sand out of my ass for a week.” He tilted his head to look at the other man, despite his blush, he was looking rather pale and he wondered what Devil was saying.

“ _He should probably be resting at home instead of frolicking on the beach with you,_ ” Angel cut in then and Hwoarang himself twinged at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts.

' _Hey, don't **do** that. You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack,_ ' Hwoarang thought back, trying to make it look like he was doing something else rather than having a conversation with the angel that lived in his head. He frowned, realizing what she'd said, ' _We were not **frolicking**!_ '

“ _Don't get me wrong, I think it's cute. Really, disgustingly cute. I had a nice cup of tea with Jun while you were busy fucking around with her son, and got caught up on old times. It was fun, and now is when I get to come back and tell you that Devil is really pissed and Jin should really be at home, meditating to get stronger..._ ”

“Jin?” Hwoarang asked, stepping back to put a hand on either of the other man's shoulders. “Are you alright? Maybe we should go back...”

The dark-haired man had his eyes shut tightly, though he shook his head at the suggestion. He raised a finger to ask for a minute and Hwoarang stepped back, keeping his mouth shut while Jin seemed to have some inner argument.

Angel was silent as well, as if she was holding her breath along with her host as they stared out at the other man.

Jin's breathing was controlled, rhythmic. It was painful to watch, but Hwoarang stayed back, knowing that Jin needed to do it on his own. He was strong - god, he knew that Jin was strong - and that he couldn't step in every time he saw that Devil was making a snide remark.

“ _Aren't you going to do anything?_ ” Angel asked, and Hwoarang could imagine her folding her arms as she said it.

' _No, Jin can handle this. I'm not the hand-holding type._ '

She didn't mention how he'd been the one to grab Jin's hand while they were sneaking away from the crowd, instead she sighed and he could feel that she was letting him do this his way. He knew it was the right way to handle it. Still, he watched Jin's features with a pit of anxiety churning within him that he couldn't put down. Those beautiful features remained neutral, his brow twitching once or twice and Hwoarang felt his heart pounding loudly as the other man's lip curled up in a way that reminded him of Devil's sneer.

After what felt like forever, Hwoarang could feel the sudden change as Jin's aura lightened and he released the breath he'd been holding. Heh, he knew Jin could do it, but that knowledge didn't stop him from moving forward to clap him on the shoulder just for some physical contact.

Jin shook his head, his aura seeming to brighten at the action and he straightened up to look at Hwoarang with clear eyes. “He's really mad at you,” he said with a small half-smile.

“Good.”

“I-I think I'm getting the hang of it,” Jin sat down in the sand and flopped backwards.  He spread his arms out and looked up at the redhead.  “Sending him away, I mean. I can barely hear him right now.”

“That's good,” Hwoarang put his hands on his hips and stared down at the other man. He was genuinely pleased that Jin had done it on his own. It saved him from worrying, and hopefully, Angel wouldn't bug him every time Jin had a headache. “You know... Jin,” he said, his voice taking on a purring lilt. “I'll bet we wouldn't get sand stuck if we-”

“No.” Jin's eyes were warm but firm as he looked up at the redhead.

“Aw, you're no fun!” Hwoarang flopped out beside him, propping his head behind his hands and he frowned out at the darkening sky.  He'd just been messing, though he couldn't deny that there was something completely disarming and alluring about Jin stretched out on a bed of sand like that.

They lay on the beach for a while, enjoying the complete privacy that the secluded section of beach offered.  Hwoarang stared up at the sky, dimly aware of the quickly vanishing sun and colour as the heavens grew dark and dotted with flickering points of light.  There was a perfect moment of silence that he was only aware of as it preceded a loud explosion and the fireworks competition began.

The first competitor started off with a series of loud bangs that rang across the beach and Hwoarang swore he could feel them in the pit of his stomach.  He felt his adrenaline begin to rush through his veins as three loud pops started the pace of explosions that was quickly accelerating and thundering through the sky with a simple display of pale blue and white light.  The beat was incredible, something machines could accomplish easily, but would take great skill to choreograph with gunpowder and timed explosions.  It worked up into a musical display of power; it was fast-paced and rhythmic and beyond loud.  Hwoarang could feel the power behind each blast and he whistled in appreciation, though it was swallowed up in the vibrating air.  He could feel the shockwaves rippling across his skin.

Jin leaned over to speak into his ear, "Ueda Ayame. She likes power over flashy shows."

"Doesn't everybody?" Hwoarang asked, clearly enjoying the start of the show.

"She's not as popular as some of the other competitors. She's got a few loyal fans, but she's never won the big prize."

Hwoarang frowned; with artsy shows like this, the winner was always picked based off the judges’ feelings and biases. "Shit, probably some stuffy judges that don't know a good thing..." At least with the King of Iron Fist tournament it was a cut and dried affair; the person standing at the end was the winner and that was that.

The display quickly raced up to its pinnacle, the rising scale of machinegun explosions ringing in incredible succession before a powerful blast obliterated the cacophony of sound and silenced the sky.

There was the faint sound of applause drifting down the beach from where the spectators sat.  It reminded Hwoarang of the crowd at the tournaments and he thought ahead to what was waiting for them at the tournament: Jin's family, and Baek. 

The quiet lull between competitors ended abruptly and Hwoarang sprang forward and watched the first volley of light that sailed up and into the sky.  There was an explosion of purple that seemed to dust the way for a series of red pops before a bright, blue explosion lit everything around them.  Hwoarang had seen fireworks before, but there was something about this whole experience that was different and made it so much better.

“This is Itokawa Hiroshi,” Jin said. “He's actually from Yudomari, but Onoaida is a favourite place for the competitors, so we get a lot of great artists. Itokawa specializes in colours.”

“What's so great about colours?”

“It's all about using them to create an atmosphere. Nana explained it to me before, but... well, she didn't really make much sense. Something about blue being cool and calming while red is fierce and, uh, passionate.”

“That sounds pretty gay. Hey, let's get in touch with our feelings, Kaza- oof!”

Jin pulled back from smacking Hwoarang in the belly and pursed his lips in annoyance. “In case you didn't realize, you're kinda gay too.”

“Only for you, Jinny,” he waggled his eyebrows and leaned in to kiss the other man.

A bright flash of red broke out across the sky and illuminated the sand and sea around them. The shades intensified as the explosions continued, ranging from deep crimson to bright pink and every shade in between. It seemed that Itokawa's performance was reaching its pinnacle of explosions and Hwoarang was oblivious to it as he explored the depths of the other man's mouth.

He languidly rolled his tongue against Jin’s, pushing deeply to completely fill his mouth possessively before the act was returned in kind. It lacked the desperate need of their previous kiss, the act settling around them as a rather comfortable expression of what neither man seemed ready to voice.  They continued even as the colours left the sky and they were again surrounded by that impeccable silence. 

Hwoarang pulled back after a few moments of silence, hovering close to Jin’s face to look into those swirling dark eyes. They were clear and warm and lacked the uncertain fear that was always dancing in their depths. He wondered if that look was reflected in his own amber eyes; was he just as exposed at that moment?

He fought the urge to bow his head and break the connection.  The urge was small, though outweighed by the need to stay close. He needed to remain close to him.  If there was a chance they’d be parted by what ever happened after that, then he wanted to commit that one, perfect moment to memory.

He felt a strong, near-violent need to just touch Jin and feel him, and it wasn’t lust.

His heart was terrified to tell him what it was.

He felt a tremor run through his hand as he brought it up to press against Jin’s chest and he bit back the words that were fighting to tumble from his lips.

If he said them, then they would make it real.

More real than it already was.

That moment he was committing to memory would break into something else…

Jin’s mouth turned up into a sad smile.  His eyes were warm with firm resolve and he snaked a strong arm around Hwoarang’s waist, ending that perfect moment ended in the only way that it possibly could.  Hwoarang let out a shaky sigh and shook his head to regain his composure.  He wrapped an arm around Jin’s shoulders and they turned their attention to the next competitor that had started their performance, the loud explosions only coming into focus now that Hwoarang wasn’t lost in that moment with his rival.  No, they weren’t rivals anymore, were they?  He hesitated to use the term ‘lovers’ though ‘friend’ was far too weak to adequately express how he felt.  He was so overwhelmed, but the only place he could stay in that moment was Jin’s side.

It was beyond what he could understand. It was just where he wanted to be.

Where he was _meant_ to be.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin and Hwoarang are preparing to leave Yakushima, with only a few things left to prepare. Devil always has something to say, and Jin finally puts his foot down.

The next day Jin woke to the delicious smells of breakfast cooking on the stove and Devil’s gruff commentary rattling in his head. Hwoarang was singing something in his native tongue and seemed oblivious to everything around him. Jin grunted in annoyance as he feigned sleep and dealt with that dark presence that seemed to have escaped its cage… again.

“ _That boy will be singing a different tune when I get my claws into him again,_ ” Devil cackled in his higher-pitched tone. “ _I can’t believe how weak he is... and he’s infecting you with it! You’re getting soft, my precious **host**._ ”

Jin shut his eyes and focused on shutting him out. Devil was pushing images into his mind’s eye, distracting images of Hwoarang’s body torn apart, his wide, accusing eyes staring up at Jin from a sputtering pool of blood.

‘ _You can’t distract me,_ ’ he thought, trying to ignore the images. ‘ _You’ll never use my body for that evil…_ ’ he created a light inside his mind, shining bright with an impossibly gold aura.

Devil seemed to growl at its creation and dug his claws into Jin’s mind, changing the focus of the threatening visions. This time the scene was different; Hwoarang was alive, with a look of hurt betrayal on his face as he struggled against Jin’s clawed hands. Jin shuddered upon seeing how brutally Devil intended to rape Hwoarang. His concentration faltered and the golden cage seemed to crack. The visions of blood filled his mind’s eye, streaming from the gashes across Hwoarang’s face and the impossible violence that Devil would use lower on his body. It was vivid and terrifying. ' _Y-you won't do it. I'll kill myself before you can, you bastard,_ ' he shuddered and Devil's high-pitched cackle rang through his head.

" _Oh, Jinny, you can be so melodramatic. Suicide isn't always the answer; sometimes it's more fun to just give in…_ "

Jin screwed his eyes shut and calmed his racing heart. Devil _wanted_ him to get upset. It was just an illusion and he took a deep breath, calming his emotions as he grasped at the pure light that always burned within him. He searched through his soul until he found it, bravely shining at the heart of Devil's nightmares. He seized that feeling, completely immersing himself in its benevolence. The darkness receded, sucked back like smoke and revealing the evil creature who hovered close. Devil Jin loomed a few feet away from him, his face was a mirror image of Jin’s visage, only twisted with anger and bloodlust. Two awful horns sat heavily upon his head, curling up and out like a bull. His torso was bare, showing tribal markings along his heaving chest as his black wings spread out behind him; challenging. His presence would have been threatening and terrifying, had it been real.

But it wasn’t. It was nothing but an illusion.

For all Devil’s posturing and threats, Jin was still in control of his mind and he used that control to knock the demon back. He focused on a point of light that was burning brightly in the heavens. He could feel its weight and power, sparking even brighter as he pulled against it, hauling it down to earth. It screamed through the air like a bolt of lightning until the solid form buried itself in the rock by Devil’s feet. The creature reached out the smash the beam, but reeled back as the pillar burned his fist. Jin looked back to the heavens, willing more points of light to appear in the dark sky. They sparkled as they fell, the barrage of pillars quickly coming into focus, landing like machinegun fire around Devil. Each beam fell in alignment with one another, creating a perfect circle around the beast.

With each pillar of light that fell, Jin could feel the darkness lessening. Devil was cursing at the top of his lungs, thrashing about in a bid to escape the cell before Jin finished. The dark creature lunged towards the raven-haired man, but Jin kicked out and sent his evil doppelganger slamming back into the cage as the final section fell into place.

Jin turned from the golden prison, smiling as he listened to Devil pound on the walls, the faint noise barely audible. This cage felt stronger, it would surely take Devil a while to claw his way free. The creature was nothing but a dull thunder in the background of his consciousness and Jin turned from the muted screams, happy to open his eyes once more and face the day and Hwoarang.

Jin opened his eyes to find that the Korean was still singing under his breath as he clattered around in the kitchen. The Japanese man pretended to wake up, noting how Hwoarang’s light-tone immediately vanished and his grittily-accented Japanese shot over to him.

“It’s about time you woke up, Kazama. It’s no fun watching someone else sleep.”

“Well, you could have stayed asleep too… what time did you get up?” Jin rubbed his eyes, noticing that the sun had barely started shining through the window. It was still early.

“Didn’t sleep,” Hwoarang said, setting the table. He’d obviously had plenty of time to make breakfast as the scent of freshly-caught fish reached Jin’s nose and he was reminded of the first day that Hwoarang had cooked breakfast for him.

“What do you mean you didn’t sleep?” Jin asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and climbing to his feet to sit at the table.

“I mean I _couldn’t_ sleep. Fucking insomnia or something,” he muttered, lifting a cup to his lips and drinking the steaming contents. “I figured there was no point in waking you with my tossing and turning, so… I caught breakfast again.”

“Ah,” Jin said, leaning over to look and see what was on the cooker. He’d wanted to make breakfast sometime, but it seemed that Hwoarang was always up before him. He’d have to plan to beat him to the punch one morning. He filled his cup with tea and brought the hot liquid to his lips before looking sharply at Hwoarang’s cup. “Wait, are you drinking my tea?”

“Yeah, I figured I deserved some of the good stuff since I’m always making your meals for you.” He smacked his lips and looked down at the cup, “It’s so weird; I feel so… ready to fight, but I’m relaxed too.”

Jin nodded and smiled, knowing full-well how the tea made him feel. He sighed; they had a lot to accomplish if they wanted to get to the tournament. They’d probably have to leave in a couple of days, and he wanted to fully strengthen himself against Devil before that happened. He had a sneaky feeling that his father would be there and when he met the older man, he knew that Devil would become stronger.

“I’d like some time to myself today,” Jin said once he’d finished eating.

“That’s fine, I was going to find out about the ferry service outta here, maybe rent a bike to take us up to the point, since I know that Onoaida doesn’t have one…” Hwoarang sniffed, giving Jin the impression that he wasn’t saying everything he intended to do. “Can I have some money? I’ll need it to rent the bike and get the tickets and… stuff.” He looked across at Jin with amber eyes that screamed he was _definitely_ up to no good.

Jin’s lip quirked upwards and he nodded. He didn’t know what the Blood Talon had planned, but he trusted him and didn’t care as long as it wasn’t… well, he trusted _Hwoarang_ anyways.

+++

Jin really should have found out _where_ in town Hwoarang wanted to meet him. He’d enjoyed a pleasant bath in one of the small waterfalls close to his house, and managed to strengthen the walls on Devil’s cage that he’d built that morning. He was feeling confident in himself and was eager to find Hwoarang. That led him to where he was at that moment; wandering down the main street of Onoaida, wishing he had some sort of tracking device that would lead him to the other man. Would Hwoarang come looking for him if he just went home to wait? It was his biggest problem at that moment, and the smallest one when he thought of what was waiting for them at the tournament.

“Damnit, Hwoarang. Why’d you have to take off before we figured out the plan?” he muttered to himself, entertaining stopping by Nana’s café to ask if his friend had been to visit her, but thought better of it. She’d probably pull him in to try a new dish. Hwoarang wouldn’t go there if Jin wasn’t with him. He had a feeling that Nana was too much for even Hwoarang’s energy level. He neared the edge of town, firmly deciding to turn around and walk home once he’d reached the last building. He watched the houses and shops as he passed, noticing that the spaces between each were growing larger the further he walked – probably because expansion into the rainforest was restricted. A few bikes lined up outside a building caught his eye as he passed, but it took his mind a few moments process that fact.

He stopped short and backed up to look at the bikes. It couldn’t be…

The building was dark and dingy and smelled like a bar.

Jin rolled his eyes and walked over, pulling the door open and marched inside, knowing without a doubt that Hwoarang was there.

It took Jin one second to spot Hwoarang’s bright, orange head of hair sitting at the bar. The rest of the patrons seemed dark and dingy by comparison and Jin beelined towards him, perching himself on a bar stool beside the Korean. He opened his mouth to ask what the hell happened to his hair, but Hwoarang cut him off and called the bartender over to order two drinks. The man returned with a dark, brown bottle and two glasses, eyeing the two of them before setting them down on the worn bartop and leaving.

Jin didn’t drink often. It didn’t feel like it was _his_ style, though it did seem like _Hwoarang’s_ …

He raised the glass to his lips.

“Bottoms up!” the Blood Talon said, and Jin hit it back. The last thought that crossed his mind was that it was definitely _not_ sake, and then that biting liquid washed down the back of his throat and it felt like he was breathing fire.

He sputtered, coughed and did fairly well in hiding his shock, though his face burned brightly and it felt as if everyone in that little watering hole was watching him. The only reason he was there _at all_ was sitting right beside him, smirking fiercely.

“You alright there, Kazama?” he asked, clapping Jin on the shoulder as he casually reached back to tilt the dark, brown bottle of shōchū over their glasses again.

“I’m fine,” Jin licked his lips and repressed the urge to cough as he eyed his refilled glass that was waiting for him. “You re-dyed your hair.” No harm in delaying the next taste of that burning liquid, though he felt like the sudden change in topic was too blunt to fool the other man.

Hwoarang seemed to brighten at the comment and he brushed his fingers through the now-short mane of red. “Yeah, I can’t go to the tournament without looking pretty.”

Jin schooled his face into a deadly serious expression and pressed his hand to his chest in mock surprise. “I just realized how vain you are, ‘Rang.” The newly awakened need to banter and flirt was bubbling beneath him and he was in the mood to tussle with words. A little harmless flirting between men… in a bar.

“Shut up, Kazama,” Hwoarang’s defenses sprang to life and he frowned. “I promised Momo that I’d take you to the salon too.”

Jin felt his stomach sink at that. A promise to that woman couldn’t be taken back, and he’d never been brave enough to visit her daughter’s salon. Mystery food was one thing, but he was fastidious about his hair. “I don’t need to go to the salon.”

Hwoarang gave him a look that did little to whittle down his resolve. “Jin…”

“It’s fine, I’ll just do something when we get to the tournament, or maybe I’ll just tie it back… or buy some scissors…” he was grasping at straws, clawing for an excuse to avoid going. He was feeling anxious at the thought of going, and then that cracked the moment Hwoarang reached out to touch him. The rough and brash redhead brushed his fingers through Jin’s hair, raking his nails against his scalp and spreading out to press his palm into the dark locks. Jin leaned into the touch, feeling his anxiety seem to melt away and if he hadn’t been perched on a barstool, he might have tried to get comfortable.

“Don’t get me wrong, Kazama,” Hwoarang’s fingers suddenly curled into a fist in the soft mane, pulling Jin close until he could feel the Korean’s hot breath on his cheeks. “You look hot like this… really fucking hot, but if you don’t get a trim, I might grab you at the tournament. Just. Like. This…” He accentuated every word with a gentle tug, the usual competitive venom was missing from his threat, and it was replaced with a husky desire that made Jin swallow thickly. Maybe a haircut wouldn’t be so bad…

The Blood Talon released his grip on Jin’s hair and turned back to the shōchū, indicating they should drink up before leaving. Jin lifted the glass to his lips and looked around at the people gathered in that dark, seedy hole. It was definitely off the beaten path, not a place for tourists or people with gentle dispositions. The place felt like rough dirt and filth and he really felt out of place there. He could feel a few people watching them, but for the most part, people kept to themselves; either too intoxicated to see them flirting, or too disinterested to care.

He watched as the Blood Talon poured another drink, observing the casual way in which he moved; admiring his relaxed posture and the way that he seemed to meld into his environment. There might as well have been a spotlight on Jin for how stiff he felt right then.

“I’m surprised that your little island has a place like this in it…” Hwoarang piped up, seeming to voice Jin’s thoughts. He fingered the glass as he set it back on the bar and sighed. “But I guess everything has it’s dark and shitty side, right? I mean, you’ve gotta be the most clean-cut guy I know, but you’ve got something dark in ya. And I don’t mean _him_ ,” he quickly added. “Y’know, there’s just something about the way you look at me sometimes that gets me all hot… and you’re starting to swear too. You’ll be hustling marks with me by the time I’m done with ya.”

“I doubt it,” Jin drank the last of his glass, resigning himself to go to the salon. “If Angel stays with you much longer, you might be paying your taxes and teaching Tae Kwon Do to orphans.”

Hwoarang stood to leave, dropping some crumpled bills on the bar before withdrawing a cigarette from his pack. The long, white cylinder hung from his lips and he sparked it to life, the flame dancing on the end before he inhaled deeply. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kazama. Paying taxes isn’t my style.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin's trip to the salon is quick and inspiring a little action that Hwoarang had missed down on the beach. The rest of the day's plans fly out the window as their baser urges are satiated.

The bike he’d found wasn’t what he was used to. It was a little better than a crotch rocket; big enough for two people, but nothing like the power Hwoarang was used to having between his thighs.

Well, what did he expect to find for rent on Yakushima – the island with one road and too many tourists that didn’t know how to handle a bike? He sailed along the streets, with Jin’s arms wrapped around his waist, and found his way to the little building where Inoue’s daughter ran her salon.

When he’d first found the place, he hadn’t known what to think. He’d been expecting something pink, something wild something… well, anything that would link her to the other eccentric women in her family. However, for all Hwoarang’s expectations, the walls were a soft green and violet (not bubblegum pink) that accented the warm white (not electric blue). There were the typical posters advertising different hair products at normal places along the walls and three stylist chairs lined up in front of three seemingly normal mirrors. Hwoarang kept his cool, but Jin’s confusion at the normalcy in that little space was written all over his face.

An attractive young woman greeted them, looking up from the reception counter and smiling widely. “Ah, hello again, Hwoarang. Jin, is it?” she looked towards the dark-haired fighter. “I don’t think we’ve ever really met properly, have we? I’m Kaede.” She bowed her head in greeting and Jin stiffly did the same.

Hwoarang laughed. “Not what you expected, eh, Jinny?” he elbowed the other man in the ribs as the woman turned to lead the way to one of the stylist chairs. Jin arched an eyebrow before sitting in the chair and letting her wrap a mossy-coloured plastic sheet around his neck. It extended down over his lap so he looked like a head floating on a sea of green. Hwoarang sat in a chair beside them, kicking his leg up against the counter and watching his lover out of the corner of his eye. The silence was deafening… to him, anyways.

“I’m glad you stopped by,” Kaede said after a long moment, seeming to choose her words carefully as she pulled a black comb from a jar of blue liquid. She seemed contented with that short, genuine statement and began wetting and combing out the dark hair.

“Hmmm,” Jin hummed, watching her through the mirror as she began parting his inky black mane.

Hwoarang looked from one to the other and back again as they seemed to settle into a comfortable silence that set him on edge. He thought he heard a radio playing from somewhere in the back room, but for the most part the clipping of the scissors was the loudest sound in there. For someone accustomed to always having background noise – rock music, the general buzz of the city, even the life-filled silence of Yakushima – he felt it was the most deafening thing he’d ever heard. “So, how come you two never met before?” he finally forced a question out to get someone talking. “It sounds like you two have lots in common…”

Jin looked sharply at him and Hwoarang grinned widely, knowing his sarcasm hadn’t been lost on the other man.

“Well, I was living with my father in Kagoshima when I was younger,” Kaede began. “I didn’t move back to the island until recently… and I like to keep to myself, anyways.” The snipping scissors echoed in the silence.

“Me too…” Jin relaxed into the chair.

Hwoarang wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. “I’m going out for a smoke.”

The door closed quietly behind him and the Korean squinted in the bright sun, tucking a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end. He’d thought Jin and Kaede would have more to talk about, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. It had been like pulling teeth to get her to talk while she’d worked on his hair. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised that she’d even _had_ the bright red dye to touch up his roots. Maybe it had been accidentally sent to her and she’d been glad to get the bizarre colour out of her salon. He sucked in a deep breath, glaring at some tourist that was looking at him oddly from across the street. He could see the coloured strands of his own hair floating about just out of the corner of his eyes, dancing in the wind. He caught his reflection in the salon window and preened, running his fingers through his bright mane and flipping the ends about. It was so hard to keep the red colour in his hair for long, but he loved the way it looked right then. He licked his lips, tilting his head and admiring the way the fiery locks fell about his face. He knew Jin wasn’t the type to go for anything but a straight cut (and Kaede wasn’t the type to do anything more than one either) though he could fantasize about Jin stepping from the salon with strange cut or even a different colour running through his hair. He’d always liked redheads, Jin wouldn’t look half bad as one either, he mused.

The cigarette burned down as he leaned against the wall of the salon and waited. He absently pitched the smouldering filter to the ground and stepped on it just as the door to the salon chimed open and his amber eyes shot over to take in the sight of his lover emerging. Jin looked the same as he usually did, only with a significant amount of his raven tresses missing. The usual shock-back look was in place; verging on severe, save for the few strands of bangs that were arching out over his eyes. It was the same as usual, but _damn_ did it look good. Not that he would come out and pay the other man a compliment, of course. “Hey, Kazama, we still have shit to do and we’ve gotta get our asses out the door early tomorrow to catch the ferry.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that we got to talking…”

“What, the conversation started when I left?” Hwoarang tilted his head. He didn’t believe whatever they’d exchanged constituted a conversation.

“Uh…” Jin brushed his hand through his hair, uncharacteristically looking down to scuff his feet. Something was off.

“What?” Hwoarang narrowed his eyes. He stepped closer to his lover, forcing him to look up into his eyes. “I didn’t leave you for _that_ long. She didn’t make a pass at you, did she?”

Jin shook his head ardently, his black locks moving slightly and the Korean’s eyes caught sight of something different. Something definitely unnatural. Something blue.

“What’s this?” he asked, reaching out to grab his shoulder, pulling him in closer.

Jin tried to step around him, setting his back to the street and holding his hands up defensively. “I-it’s nothing. Just a little… colour…”

“You dyed your hair?” Hwoarang stared. “I had to twist her arm to dig out the red dye, and it’s like she had the blue waiting for you the moment I left!”

“Well, she thought it would contrast against yours…” he frowned. “It looks stupid, doesn’t it?”

“Fuck, Kazama,” Hwoarang licked his lips, eyeing the lightning-blue streak that just hinted from behind his lover’s dark tresses.

“I knew it, I’ll get her to cover it up,” Jin turned to walk back into the salon.

Hwoarang caught his arm as he did, pulling the other man to him.

“Hwoarang?” Jin breathed, his eyes darkening. “Not here…”

Hwoarang tightened his grip and almost purred. “Then let’s hurry back home.”

+++

The two men hurried back to the cabin, each showing incredible restraint in not pressing the other against any of the inviting trees or boulders on the way there.

Hwoarang hauled back to kick in the door to the cabin. Jin stopped him and opened it properly before grabbing his red haired lover and dragging him inside. The room beyond the threshold was dark compared to outside, though Hwoarang had no trouble turning the Japanese fighter around and pressing his back against the door. He held Jin tightly, pressing his arm against the man’s chest and pausing. He wanted to say something, but the only thing his mouth would do at that point was kiss the raven-haired man before him.

And Jin wanted the same as he hungrily pressed back against Hwoarang’s body. His strong hands roamed along the Korean’s broad chest and dug into his muscled shoulders. “I-I want this…” he nearly moaned once Hwoarang had broken the kiss to lick along his throat. “I want you, Hwoarang…” Jin tightened his grip and spun the redhead around, reversing their positions to pin Hwoarang to the door as he began his own passionate attack with kisses and groping hands.

Hwoarang let his head fall back against the aged wood of the door. The way that Jin was kissing him right then… the way that his own body was responding to his touch… had he really been wanting Jin that badly? He knew he could come easily if he let Jin continue the barrage of oral attacks and he barely choked back a moan when Jin pressed a knee between his legs. “K-Kazama,” he choked out as he grabbed hold of the other fighter’s arms, sinking heavily onto his thigh and grinding against the thickly muscled limb. He bowed his head forward, holding onto Jin as all the blood rushed from his brain to his thickening member and catching his breath was the most important thing at that moment.

Jin pressed his body forward and took Hwoarang’s chin in a firm grip. He leaned forward, bringing his face close, his dark eyes betraying the desire burning within him, and mirroring the same feeling within his rival. “I said I want you Hwoarang…” he took Hwoarang’s hand and dragged it across his body until he was forcing the Korean to dig his fingers into his tight ass.

It was all the invitation Hwoarang needed as he kneaded his rival’s solid globes. He reached around with his other hand and pulled him in tight against his form and spreading the muscled flesh to give the other man a taste of what was to come.

After a few minutes, the redhead pressed the other man away, stepping forward with awkward steps as he managed to remove both his and his rival’s shirts before they tumbled to Jin’s bed. The frame remained solid as the two fighters tumbled into the mass of blankets and futon mattress, only groaning as they rolled about, scrambling to relieve themselves of their pants and other garments.

“Jinny,” Hwoarang teased, pressing his chest against the other’s naked back. “I win.”

“What do you mean?” Jin frowned as he struggled to pull his underwear off without falling over.

“I got naked first.”

“Congratulations,” Jin huffed, struggling to pull his boxers past his knees.

“Well, shouldn’t I get a prize or something?” the redhead asked, trying to fight the growing lust to sound challenging.

Jin’s eyes darkened as he looked over at the Korean, seeming just then to realize what the other man had said. He looked down to his own straining erection before looking away. “O-okay,” he muttered.

“You can’t get bashful on me now, Kazama,” Hwoarang laughed as he reached down to stroke his own dick. “Not after our little training session the other day…”

Jin heaved a breath and looked up at the other man with dark, lusty eyes. A small smile seemed to grace his features before he nodded and bowed.

Hwoarang watched as what started as a humble bow became so much more when Jin didn’t rise again. He remained bowed over, propping himself up on his elbows and taking Hwoarang’s erection with both hands. The redhead gasped, quickly withdrawing his hands from the shaft and allowing Jin to feel its insistent throbbing against his fingertips. He closed his eyes, feeling Jin tentatively squeeze the flesh before he breathed heavily across the tip, spreading the precome that had gathered there. The faint sensations were sheer torture, though Hwoarang held back and allowed his rival to begin his seductive performance, the worship of his sex with hands and mouth. He hummed approvingly in the back of his throat as he felt Jin’s tongue teasing the underside of his head. That sound turned into an ineloquent grunt when Jin parted his lips and drove the head of Hwoarang’s cock as far into his mouth as he could.

“J-Jin!” Hwoarang choked, his hands digging into the raven-blue tresses of his rival. “G-Go-God, fuck, please don’t stop!” he ground his hips forward, nearly laughing in delirious splendour as Jin wrapped his lips around his erection and sucked back hard. “Y-you’ve done this before?” he gasped, calling on all his experience to prolong the act for as long as he could. If he simply lied back and enjoyed himself, he knew he’d come in a minute.

Shit… he couldn’t let that happen… but Jin was so hot… fuck… He rolled his hips, wantonly choking on any expletives that were stuck in the back of his throat. The way that Jin’s tongue was working the underside of his cock head, and the way that his teeth scraped… shit, those teeth! “K-Kazama…” he warned, rolling his hips and driving his shaft far into the raven-haired man’s mouth. “Jin, I’m gonna come…” he released his grip on the other man’s head. It was all he could do to give Jin time to pull away as that throbbing, tightening feeling gripped his balls and he was acutely aware of the electricity storming within him.

Hwoarang clenched his fists by his sides, screwing his eyes shut as that feeling rushed up on him like a tidal wave.

Jin only grabbed his hips and pulled Hwoarang upwards, driving that cock as far down his throat as he could manage.

Hwoarang gasped, his eyes shooting open and all he could see was white. Blissful white. “Fuckfuckfucking GOD!” Hwoarang’s mouth didn’t stop as he moaned any variation of ‘God’ he could think of, mixing it with a plethora of expletives to taste. He ground his hips forward into Jin’s mouth until the fighter had finished choking on his essence and his orgasm subsided. He withdrew his cock from the other man’s mouth and stooped to kneel before him, facing Jin and seeing the liquid evidence of his release glistening on the edges of his smile. He reached up to brush Jin’s lip with his thumb before kissing him deeply and tasting himself.

When he pulled back, he wanted to say something, but nothing really seemed right as thanks. Jin’s stare bore into him, the desire still burning in his dark eyes and Hwoarang felt a pang of excitement trace along his spine again. Oh fuck, he couldn’t go again…

Jin’s mouth quirked up into a playful smile and he suddenly grabbed Hwoarang’s hips, maneuvering him around on the bed until the Korean was lying back and he was the one bearing down on top of him.

Amber eyes traveled along Jin’s sculpted abs, further down to the trail of hair that led to the thick cock that was bobbing from between his legs. Hwoarang smirked and looked back up to his lover, spreading his legs invitingly as he did. He watched the other man through half-closed eyes as he raised his arms to prop up his head and waited to see how Jin would take control of the situation. He’d already come, there weren’t many options for him at that moment.

Judging from the way that Jin’s body shuddered and heaved before him, Hwoarang guessed that Jin wouldn’t last much longer either. “C’mon, Kazama,” he purred watching as Jin crawled between his legs. Their cocks slid together, though only a moan escaped the dark-haired man’s lips. His arms shook with the strain and Hwoarang raised his foot up to press against his shoulder, giving him the access he needed to prepare himself.

“I don’t think we have time for much more foreplay,” Hwoarang panted as he pressed a finger into the opening between his legs. He could feel the twinges of renewal beginning to churn within his abdomen. He winced as he tried to push a second finger inside, hurrying the process and increasing his discomfort. He paused, seeing Jin lean over him and felt his fingers digging into his ass cheeks to pull them further apart. The feeling sent a pang of renewed desire coursing through him, but that was multiplied when he heard, saw, _felt_ Jin spit onto his tight pucker.

“Jin…” Hwoarang ground his teeth and mewled as the dark-haired fighter added a thick glob of spit to the fingers inside his ass, easing their passage inside. The redhead looked up at his lover, shocked as he met his gaze and Jin seemed to bow his head. Hwoarang moaned, hastening the movements of his hand between his legs and mindlessly bracing a foot on Jin’s shoulder. Fuck it. He grabbed his cock, stroking it in time with his movements until he laid back, withdrew his fingers from his entrance and fixed Jin with a look that told him what to do.

Jin didn’t need to be told. The moment Hwoarang’s fingers left, his own took their place, only they were slicked with something far smoother than spit, and Hwoarang bit into his fist when he felt Jin easily slide two fingers in as far as they’d go. “D-damnit,” he tried to hold back the sounds. His hand continued its work on his cock, stroking upwards, flicking outwards on the uptake and slamming back against his balls as Jin added a third finger to his stretched entrance before withdrawing completely.

Hwoarang stilled his hand’s movement and lifted his head to watch his lover’s next move. He propped himself up on his elbows, committing what he saw to memory. It was probably the first and only time that he’d see Jin stroking his own dick with such abandon. His head was tossed back, his dark hair staying firmly in place, save for the flash of blue that peeked out from beneath the shadowed tresses. His hand was fisted tightly around his shaft of flesh, slick and glistening with whatever oil he’d been using to prepare Hwoarang. His hips pumped forward in time to his thrust; short, gasping movements that burned into Hwoarang’s mind and he crawled up to place his hand atop of Jin’s.

Jin’s eyes drifted open and he stared at Hwoarang through the haze of sweat that had engulfed them.

“How’s your stamina, Kazama?” Hwoarang asked in a husky and challenging voice.

“It’s the best,” Jin purred, pushing Hwoarang back and climbing over top of him.

The redhead cocked a wry smile as he raised his legs to wrap around Jin’s waist. “Good, because I don’t want you coming before I do…” he clenched his jaw as Jin began to move against him, pressing his arousal to the Korean’s entrance. It had been a while, and Hwoarang knew it would hurt at first. He was glad that Jin moved slowly, guiding the tip of his erection beyond the tight ring of muscle before pausing. Hwoarang let out a shaky breath, trying to calm his racing heart and focus on relaxing the muscles of his asshole.

Jin leaned over top of him, bracing himself on his elbows on either side of Hwoarang’s head and waited. After a few moments, Hwoarang caught his breath and looked up into the dark eyes of the man above him. Without a word he nodded and Jin pressed his hips forward, slowly inching inside at an agonizingly slow pace, but it was the right speed for the both of them. Once their hips pressed together and they had truly joined, Jin paused again. Hwoarang could feel him shaking with restraint and knew all-too well what he was feeling at that point. He’d been in Jin’s position many times before, and the feeling of having someone’s tight ass gripping his cock was more than he could stand. He had to admire Jin’s control.

“What were you saying?” Jin asked as he pulled back to begin the fun part.

“That I don’t want you coming before I do, Kazama. Think you can handle that?” Hwoarang felt his asshole gripping the thick invader as it withdrew, sending shocks through his lower half and solidifying his own thick cock.

Jin hovered dangerously close to Hwoarang as he moved, continuing his thrusting until he built up a slow, addictive rhythm as he looked thoughtfully into the redhead’s eyes. “I’ll make you come first…” he whispered, blushing deeply as he said it.

“Is that a challen-?!” Hwoarang began on his instinctive banter, but Jin cut him off with a forceful kiss that pressed him back into the pillow. His mouth was insistent, parting the redhead’s lips and overwhelming his mouth with his agile tongue. Hwoarang dug his fingers into the mattress, grabbing for some purchase as their pace increased, suddenly moving at a speed that matched the way that Jin’s tongue was fucking his mouth.

Damnit, where did he learn to kiss like that?

Hwoarang tried to fight back with his mouth and body; tightly wrapping his legs around Jin’s waist and clenching his ass around the invading organ. He grunted in victory when he felt Jin’s tongue falter within his mouth. He pressed his advantage, pushing the battle of tongues into Jin’s mouth, pressing his rival’s slick muscle down, hard and deep within his oral cavity. He matched the rhythm of Jin’s hips that never seemed to falter, even as they sped up the incline, racing towards the pinnacle of their release.

Hwoarang’s dick was thick and ready, trapped between their thrusting bodies, pressed against his own washboard abs and grated against Jin’s perfect body. His hands flew to claw at Jin’s back, his short nails digging into the skin there and cutting lightly as he felt the familiar buzz of impending release thrumming through his body. He held onto Jin’s shoulders, pulling himself up and trying to buck down and meet each upward thrust with equal ferocity. His hands slipped on other the man’s slick shoulders and he dug in, breaking the kiss and tossing his head back as the waves of his second release washed over him.

His entire body clenched down and relaxed at the same time, he felt light and happy and for a few moments, he even forgot his name. Through the blissfully white waves of oblivion he could only see Jin. The other man was still thrusting into his shuddering body. Hwoarang’s eyes rolled back in his head, teetering off from one of the best orgasms in his life and he barely had the wherewithal to grab Jin’s ass and pull him in harder.

Jin’s face was a mask of concentration; his eyes were closed, his mouth pursed in a thin line of single-minded purpose. Hwoarang pressed his hands against Jin’s cheeks, gently rubbing along the sharp cheekbones with his thumbs. The gentle action caught Jin’s attention and he looked down into Hwoarang’s amber eyes, his own betraying his utter need to find his release, though his expression was schooled to show no emotion. He had utter control over his body, but at that moment, he needed to let go.

Hwoarang grunted, “Hey, it’s okay, Jin.” He licked his lips, drinking in the sight of Jin above him; he didn’t want to miss a thing. “Come for me.”

Jin’s eyes went wide for a moment. “I-I’ll…”

“Come for me, Jin… _now_!”

Jin dropped to his elbows and a shudder spread throughout his sweat-slicked body. Hwoarang held onto him, feeling the throb of release warm him from the inside. Jin’s mouth latched onto his collarbone, his teeth digging in as he tried to suppress the growl of release that burned in his lungs. Hwoarang tightened around Jin, milking his lover for all he was worth until he stopped moving and finally collapsed against the Korean. He released his bite on Hwoarang’s neck, resting his cheek against his shoulder. “T-th… that…” Jin tried talking, though his chest heaved to catch his breath.

“Was amazing?” Hwoarang offered. “Fuck, Jin. That was incredible!” He huffed out a breath and wrapped an arm around Jin’s shoulders, pressing their bodies tightly together.

“Next time…” Jin laughed tiredly and lifted himself up to look down at the Korean, his eyes focusing on a spot just around Hwoarang’s neck.

“There will _definitely_ be a next time, Kazama,” Hwoarang hummed.

“At the tournament, then,” Jin yawned and fingered the bruise on his shoulder.

Hwoarang followed the movement and felt his pride swell when he saw the bite mark that he’d made the first time they’d fooled around. He knew that Jin had been embarrassed for people to see it at the hot springs, but he thought it was fucking hot. A mark that said Jin was involved with him.

Jin reached down to touch a spot on Hwoarang’s collar that was feeling tender before leaning forward and lightly kissing him. “I’m going to sleep; you tired me out, ‘Rang.”

Hwoarang tried to look down at the spot in question, feeling his heart skip when he realized that he’d been marked as well. He didn’t say anything and simply watched as his Japanese lover withdrew from his body and rolled over to find a comfortable place to sleep. Jin wasn’t pushing him out of his bed that night and Hwoarang claimed that as a small victory as he settled down to try and get some sleep. He eyed the blankets on the ground with a satisfied grunt before rolling over and pressing his back against Jin. For some reason he was feeling exhausted, even though he’d taken the bottom position that time. As long as they were up and at the ferry in time the next morning, he wouldn’t worry about anything else. Things had been interesting since he’d arrived in Yakushima, though he’d be glad to get back to the city and civilization.

The King of Iron Fist Tournament would be interesting with Jin as his date. He just hoped that Angel and Devil stayed the fuck out of their way so they could fight with their own power or, at the very least, that nothing too bizarre happened to them.

He yawned, he had a feeling that a simple fight would be too much to ask for this time.

Somewhere in his consciousness, Angel agreed with him.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang and Jin make the journey from Yakushima to the King of Iron Fist Tournament without a hitch. There is an absence of danger when they first arrive, as if the Zaibatsu has no interest in Jin, which is fine, because someone showed up for Hwoarang.

Hwoarang slipped his coins into the vending machine slot and whacked the buttons until two coca-colas dropped unceremoniously into the catch tray. He grabbed both and headed back to find Jin just as the engines for the ferry began to start up. The small upper deck rattled with the effort and he stumbled down the stairs to the lower deck, avoiding bumping into the other passengers that were travelling out to Kakoshima. He was surprised at the number of foreigners that were milling about the small vessel (he hadn’t seen that many of them when they’d been on the island), though he hadn’t really been paying attention, either. He’d been too busy trying to keep from laughing as Jin said goodbye to Nana. Inoue and Momo had understood all-too easily and been giggling as they’d ushered them out of the onsen office, but Nana, on the other hand, was predictably unpredictable. She acted surprised and sad when they stopped in her cafe, and then turned around to give them each a bag full of homemade sweets (he assumed) and things to eat on their trip. It was as if she’d been waiting for them to leave, but was still caught by surprise when they told her as much. In a way he was sad to leave (alright, he’d grown to like them, somehow) but the moment he’d stepped onto the ferry, all he could think about was the upcoming tournament.

He stepped up behind his dark-haired lover, completely taking the other man by surprise when he pressed the cold can against his neck.

Jin jumped back in surprise and frowned at him. “What?”

“Here, Kazama,” he tossed the can into the air and Jin caught it with one hand, still pursing his lips in a sour expression as he cracked it open.

“So,” Hwoarang started, ignoring the look and resting his elbows on the back railing of the ferry. “What’s the plan? I don’t usually travel to the tourneys all first class. Are we flying in?”

Jin nodded, pressing the red and white can to his lips and tipped it back. Yakushima was behind them, slowly growing smaller as the boat pulled away. The little road around the island didn’t seem to dampen the overload of green as they traveled away from it. Several patches of clouds came into view, the dark mist raining down to feed the ancient rainforest at the interior. It was always raining somewhere on the island.

Hwoarang leaned on the railing, resting his chin on his arms and watched the island disappear behind them before looking up at his companion. “Oi, Kazama,” he nudged the other man with his toe. “I’m bored.”

The other man stepped back and looked at him, “I’m not here to entertain you, Hwoarang.”

“Yeah, but you _do_ entertain me, Jinny,” he purred and wrapped his arm around the other man.

“H-Hwoarang!” Jin tried to push him as he was pulled towards what looked like a staff room. “W-we can’t!”

“Ha ha, I was just kidding, Kazama,” Hwoarang stopped groping his rival and instead grabbed his hand to pull him along the deck. “Let’s check out the front of this tub, then. I wanna see where we’re going!”

“Fine,” Jin allowed himself to be pulled along. “You’ll probably want the window seat too…”

+++

Jin lifted his hood as he stepped onto the steps leading down from the airplane. He knew that if someone was looking for him, they’d find him, despite his poor attempt at concealing himself. Any assassin’s task would be made that much easier with the redhead bounding down the steps behind him.

“Wi~ndo~w se~at, wi~ndo~w seat!” he was humming to himself. “Thanks for letting me sit there,” he leaned on Jin when they’d finally stepped onto the tarmac.

“I had a feeling you’d want it,” Jin said, trying to be quiet to compensate for the other man’s volume. If he knew his grandfather, there’d be a limo or something just waiting to pick him up and take him to the tournament. Heihachi liked to keep him under thumb, though there didn’t appear to be any burly men with guns waiting for them there. Not even when they got inside the terminal; _nobody_ seemed to be waiting for them.

Either that or his grandfather was hiring smarter goons.

The dark-haired Japanese man adjusted the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder and puffed out his chest as Hwoarang whistled loudly for a cab. Well, if anyone was there to kill them, they’d missed all their opportunities. Jin tossed his bag into the trunk of the bright, yellow car and climbed inside, fastening his seatbelt as he gave instructions for how to get to the hotel.

The driver knew exactly where to go and weaved dangerously in and out of traffic to get them to the doorstep in record time. Hwoarang chatted him up the whole while, and it seemed that the older man was also a fan of the King of Iron Fist Tournament. He admitted to cheering for some American fighter who utilized a kickboxing style, though he wasn’t adverse to accepting an autograph as payment.

Jin marveled at the way that Hwoarang was able to smooth talk the other man, convincing him that a personalized autograph from a _real_ fighter from the tournament would be the best gift for his kids. He managed to somehow rope Jin into signing the sheet of paper as well, though the dark-haired man kept his mark simple and precise. The redhead signed his name with a flourish that seemed to make the driver happy as he pulled their bags from his trunk and left them on the curb of the hotel.

The two fighters grabbed their effects and went in to the reception desk to see what rooms had been reserved for them. The Zaibatsu always arranged for all participants in the tournament to have a room at a selected hotel (typically owned or under the influence of the Zaibatsu). It was in part to keep an eye on the participants, though it suited Hwoarang just fine, since he’d have been crashing on a park bench otherwise.

The woman behind the reception desk had been waiting for them, and handed them their room keys shortly after they’d walked into the lobby. Hwoarang dropped his bag to the ground and tore into his participation package to find his schedule.

Jin, on the other hand, kept his manila envelope tucked under his arm; the schedule and all the other contest information would still be there when he was in the privacy of his room. Still, he made a mental note of Hwoarang’s scheduled fights, which the other seemed too eager to talk about the moment he found the sheet in the black envelope.

“Man, they don’t have me on until later tomorrow! Hey, when are you fighting?” He pulled Jin’s envelope from under his arm and withdrew out the sheet of paper with his fights on it. “Man, you’re on for tomorrow morning! Really early, too. Guess we can’t be up late tonight, eh?”

“Ah,” Jin took the schedule from the redhead and looked at the time slots and arenas he was scheduled for. He frowned when he saw some of the names he was slotted against; he knew his grandfather was manipulating the matches to wear him out, though there was nothing he could do about it. Early matches would be the least of his worries when it came down to the end.

“Man, I was hoping to get a little warm-up or something before my bout… do you think they’ve got a dojo here?” Hwoarang folded his arms and leaned heavily against Jin to show his annoyance.

“This hotel is owned by the Zaibatsu. It’s logical for them to have a training room for the fighters… so they can keep and eye on them,” Jin flipped his room key over. “I’m in 801, where are you?” he looked over to read the card in the redhead’s hand.

“808,” Hwoarang frowned. “What, we’re not together?”

“They had no reason to put us together,” Jin said, tucking the card into his pocket. “Our situation hadn’t changed until recently, anyways…” he bowed his head, memories of the other day coming to his memory so clearly. It had only been one day since he’d consummated his relationship with Hwoarang back in Yakushima. It had been such a short time, but still, it felt so far away. “I’d like to stay in your room with you,” he finally voiced, feeling nervous for no reason he could understand. He could feel Devil’s disapproving thrum in the back of his mind, but it was easy enough to ignore. He gasped when Hwoarang wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

“Of course you’re going to stay with me,” Hwoarang said just as the doors chimed open to the eighth floor. “I’m feeling kinda tired, so I might not be able to pay you back for last night. We might have to just sleep, but don’t worry, I won’t make you sleep on the floor.”

Jin’s mouth turned up into a small smile.

“Heh, not like the shitty bed you made me sleep in.”

“B-but, I let you sleep with me last night,” Jin followed the redhead out into the hallway.

“That’s exactly why I’m going to let you sleep with me tonight,” Hwoarang said, stopping in front of his room and sliding the card key into the lock. “But no cuddling, Kazama,” he pointed at Jin with a mock-threatening tone. “I don’t cuddle.”

“Sure, sure,” Jin waved his hand to dismiss the comment and deciding not to mention how Hwoarang had somehow entangled his arms around his frame the previous night. He was about to follow the Korean through the door when someone called out to him.

“Jinny!”

The dark-haired man recognized the voice and spun around just in time to catch Ling Xiaoyu as she threw herself at him. He dropped his bag, caught the petite girl as she knocked him back against the doorframe all the while excitedly babbling about something.

“Hey, hey,” Hwoarang popped out into the hallway, looking more amused than he had the right to be. “Friend of yours, Kazama?”

“Y-yeah, from school,” Jin said just as another girl walked up to meet them.

“Hey, Ling,” the new girl said, grabbing hold of Xiaoyu’s bubblegum-pink bikini top and snapping it back. “Are you getting lazy, all of the sudden? Don’t make Jin carry you to the pool, even if you’d like it,” she winked and a blush came to Xiaoyu’s features.

“But, I…” she looked at Jin and quickly hopped back to the ground.

The dark-haired fighter breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the Korean who’d come to lean against the doorframe and observe the whole spectacle. “So who are these people?” he asked in his accented Japanese.

“Xiaoyu is a friend from school, and… Miharu?” Jin tilted his head. He remembered this other girl, though he hadn’t talked to her much. “We all went to school together.” He looked to Hwoarang for some help, the way that Xiaoyu was looking at him made him uncomfortable.

“So, are you going to introduce your friend, Jinny?” Ling asked, clasping her hands behind her and rocking on the balls of her feet.

“Hwoarang,” the Korean said flatly.

“Ohh?” Xiaoyu seemed to think for a moment, raising a finger to her mouth. “That reminds me of that dream I told you about, Miharu.”

“Which one was that again? The one with the giant gumball?” the other girl crossed her arms and smirked.

“Noooo, the one with the spaceship!” Xiaoyu corrected, and Hwoarang raised his eyebrows while staring pointedly at Jin.

“Hey, Jinny,” she turned back to the dark-haired fighter. “I had this dream about you, it was weird.”

Hwoarang seemed to bristle at that comment, and Jin tried to ignore it and politely asked Xiaoyu to go on.

“Well, this woman kept following me around and asking me to find you. It was really weird, she was all in white and she was really strong and even told me she’d give me her powers if I agreed to help her!” she swayed and appeared to think for a moment. Her dark mood lasted for a second and then she seemed to bubble up again. “But I told her I couldn’t because I had to be there for Panda. Jin, did you know that Panda and Kuma are in love? She is taking care of her little Kumandas right now! They’re so cute!” she hopped up and down and turned to Miharu. “Isn’t that a weird dream, though?”

“Not any more weird than your other dreams. Weren’t you on your spaceship going to the moon again?” Miharu laughed and reached out to tickle her friend. “But Xiao, I wanna go for our swim!”

“Oh, right!” Xiaoyu seemed to brighten. “Would you like to come along, Jinny?” she asked the quiet fighter.

Hwoarang stepped in to answer for him. “Yeah, he would, except that he’s got an early fight tomorrow morning and I’ve gotta get him to bed. Sorry girls,” he pulled Jin back into the room and began to close the door. “Bye!”

“Sorry, Xiaoyu!” Jin called out before the door shut all the way. “Hwoarang?” he asked, turning to his friend who was locking the door. “Why’d you pull me away so quickly? She was just being nice.”

“Yeah…” Hwoarang bristled and stomped into the room and inspected the contents of the bar fridge. “A little too friendly, Kazama.”

“Okay, Hwoarang?” Jin walked over and sat on the bed beside the other man. “She’s just a friend from school… are you… jealous?” he couldn’t repress the smile that sprang to his face.

“Damn right I’m jealous,” Hwoarang withdrew a baby bottle of booze and quickly cracked the seal on it. “I can’t help it. She fucking _jumped_ on you,” he frowned and tilted the bottle against his lips.

Jin leaned against his lover, nuzzling his neck and nipping on the skin behind his earlobe. Once he had the redhead’s attention, he rolled off the bed and dug some cashews from the fridge. He cracked the tin and sat back on the king sized bed. He munched on a few salted nuts and turned back to Hwoarang. “Why do we always get rooms with one bed?”

“If you wanted separate beds, you could have asked,” Hwoarang said dryly. “You could always go to your room and stop eating my nuts,” Hwoarang said before he realized what he’d said. He grinned wolfishly and stared at Jin who seemed oblivious.

“I mean, is it that obvious that we’re a couple?” Jin continued thinking aloud while he threw a few more cashew nuts into his mouth.

“Momo did, I know that much,” Hwoarang said, rolling onto his stomach and kicking his legs out so he was really spread across the bed.

Jin’s head shot over to him with a look of horror on his face. “Not her…”

“Yeah, she’s a real pervy old lady. I like her!” Hwoarang grinned widely.

In one fluid movement, Jin set the tin down and grabbed a pillow to smack Hwoarang.

The Korean caught it mid-air and pulled Jin closer to him. “You know, they’re not wrong in assuming…”

Jin looked at him seriously. “You want us to be a…” he trailed off.

“Well, unless you don’t want me to hang around… and you think you can get rid of me,” Hwoarang waggled his eyebrows and tried to pull Jin closer for a kiss.

“Wait,” Jin pulled back. “Aside from the whole Devil thing, you still want me for something more than, ah, fooling around and fighting?”

“Idiot,” Hwoarang said, reaching out to take hold of Jin’s jaw and guide him closer. “How many times do I hafta say it? I was always after _you_ ,” he leaned in to brush a kiss along Jin’s parted mouth. “Yeah, so I like you a whole lot more now, and I still want that re~match,” he winked, reaching out to trail his fingers down Jin’s back. “But, that’s not the only thing I care about.”

“So,” Jin smiled and leaned into Hwoarang. “Does that mean you want this to be more than a one-time thing? You want to be my boyfriend, then?” he reached out to run his fingers through Hwoarang’s short hair before tightening his grip.

Hwoarang began to answer, but Jin pulled him in for a kiss, allowing the redhead’s tongue to have full access. He could taste the alcohol on his lover’s breath and drank in the flavour that he’d always associate with Hwoarang. He should have been sleeping or something, preparing for the early-morning tournament he had the next day, but he couldn’t stop his hands from reaching out and touching Hwoarang. They pressed against the Korean’s thin t-shirt, travelling over the clothed contours of his body before they travelled to the hem of the garment. He scraped his nails along the waistband of his jeans, inhaling sharply as Hwoarang’s tongue thrust inside his mouth, roughly owning the kiss and Jin finally pulled his shirt up to reveal the expanse of his lover’s perfect chest.

Jin fell back on the bed, pulling the other man with him until Hwoarang was casually half-draped across him and languidly kissing him. The Korean roughly pressed him down, and Jin relished the power the other man had over him. He loved the way Hwoarang touched him; traveling his strong hands along his body and lighting his senses on fire. The Korean’s hungry mouth swallowed up his moans, and he dug his fingers into Hwoarang’s thigh before a loud knocking sound broke through his senses and they reluctantly broke the kiss. “W-what was that?”

The two fighters stopped and looked at each other before turning towards the door where the sound had come from.

“Who the fuck?” Hwoarang growled and snorted angrily.

“Probably Xiaoyu again,” Jin sighed, grabbing a hold of Hwoarang’s shoulders to hold him close. “Don’t answer. Let’s pretend we’re not here,” he smirked mischievously, hating to deceive the girl who was so kind to him, but at that moment, he didn’t want _any_ interruptions.

Hwoarang’s smirk matched Jin’s and his fingers reached to trail further along Jin’s thigh, just as the knocking resumed, escalating to loud bangs.

“Hey, Hwoarang! Open the fucking door!” a voice from the other side boomed in, causing the two fighters to break apart.

“Oh, fuck me,” Hwoarang cursed, looking at Jin before practically leaping off the bed.

“My thoughts exactly,” Jin muttered and followed behind his redheaded lover. “Who is it?” He didn’t recognize the distinctly masculine and gruff voice from the other side, though it was hard to ignore the thickly accented Japanese that it barked.

Hwoarang pressed his back against the wall, seemingly trying to decide what to do, before he took a breath and looked through the peephole. “Oh… wow…” he flicked the lock open just as another barrage of knocks and banging started.

The door swang open as soon as Hwoarang turned the doorknob to reveal a chubby Korean man whose most memorable feature was his loud Hawaiian shirt, although the shade of red that his face had achieved was running a close second. “Gigi!” he shouted and his frown disappeared, immediately replaced with a wide grin as he stepped in to hug the redhead.

“Fuck,” Hwoarang muttered under his breath.

Jin arched both eyebrows and folded his hands over his chest. Hwoarang looked back at him and tried to grin, though it was painfully clear to both men that their evening of passion was _definitely_ over.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival of Hwoarang's friends from Korea is sudden and definitely awkward.

Hwoarang slapped his old friend on the back a few times in a manly display of affection before the bottle-blonde released him and stepped to the side of the doorframe. The redhead opened his mouth to ask what the fuck his buddy was doing so far from Korea and standing in his doorway, but a smaller body pushed its way into the room and wrapped itself around his waist before he could utter a sound.

“Hwo!” Sun shouted, squeezing Hwoarang’s waist tightly and looked up at him with bright eyes. “Mom convinced uncle Doy to bring us to see you, just like you told us to!”

“Great…” Hwoarang trailed off, trying to smile for the boy while keeping an eye on Doyon as he pushed his way into the hotel room and towards Jin. He had the other man cornered and Hwoarang gracelessly stepped over to the pair with a lazy-fast gait before he could say anything stupid to his lover.

He roughly slapped his friend on the back to distract him. “So… You actually came!” he tried to pull Doyon away, but the other man stood his ground and refused to budge. “How the _hell_ did you find my room?”

“Well, yeah, ‘Rang,” Doyon said, turning to his friend with an incredulous look as he jammed a cigarette between his teeth and dug around for a lighter. “You left Moon and Sun and told them to come, so I figured that I should come too because we need to show our support and all that shit, right?” He lit the smoke, “Plus, Sun wouldn’t leave me alone. Kept pestering me with that damn tournament flyer you gave him. As for finding you,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I was chatting up a couple cuties in the lobby. Seems they knew exactly who you were when I mentioned your name and they told me where I could find you. Lucky, eh?”

“Heh,” Hwoarang smiled lopsidedly, “I didn’t expect you to actually come.” He sheepishly stole a peek at Jin; the other man was standing there with his arms folded, watching Hwoarang intently. “So… where are you staying?” he asked his old friend, secretly hoping that they all had rooms of their own, though he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

“With you, of course,” the blonde said, settling himself in one of the chairs and flicked his cigarette into the ashtray on the desk. “I spent a shitload of cash to get us here. I can’t afford to book a room in _this_ place.” He hauled off his smoke and looked at Jin. “So, who is this?”

Jin stared back at him with a blank expression before turning to the redhead.

Hwoarang stepped closer to him, “This is my-”

“Oh, this is the guy you left me for, then?” Doyon cut in, getting an intrigued look in his eyes. “The one with the wi-”

“Yeah, man,” Hwoarang cut him off before he could mention the wings. “This is Jin Kazama.”

“Kazama, eh?” the blonde got a look to his face that said he was thinking about something profitable. “Any relation to Kazuya Mishima? Ya kinda look like him…” he leaned forward, “any chance you could get me a meeting with the head of G Corp?”

Jin’s blank expression remained, though his eyes shifted to Hwoarang and the redhead mentally kicked himself for inviting anyone along. He should have known this shit would happen. “Uh, Jin? This is my friend, Doyon… from back home.”

Jin’s eyebrow slowly rose before he let out a sigh and nodded politely to the other man, though his mouth remained tight and he kept quiet.

Hwoarang finally understood what it was to be between a rock and a hard place. He was the one Doyon and Jin would look at when they wanted something, and he hated the ball of anxiety churning in his stomach when he thought of how the hell he’d manage this. The distance between those two hard things closed in on him the moment that Moon stepped in the doorway.

Moon stepped into the room and approached Hwoarang. Sun seemed to become suddenly interested in whatever was outside the window, leaving Hwoarang to face Moon all alone. He heard the murmur of Doyon prying a conversation out of Jin, though he couldn’t focus on the words as he tried to smile at Moon. Her expression was unreadable, but Hwoarang was relieved that she didn’t seem angry. There was no way that he could tell them to find another room now that he knew she was there. He looked back to Jin who seemed to be making an effort to communicate with Doyon and felt Angel shifting in his mind.

“Hey,” he said to Moon. “So, you took me up on my invite, huh? It should be a good show.”

“You left without even sticking around for my brother to wake up. He gave me a message to give to you,” she stepped up, her smile tight and sad.

Hwoarang heaved a sigh, he knew Hitch would have been fine after he’d healed him, but he did feel a bit guilty for leaving so quickly. Still, despite his guilt and the verbal reaming he expected, he was still surprised when Moon lashed out with a strong right hook. He felt his cheek sting stronger than any hit he’d taken in a proper fight. His instinct flared up to hit back, but he stopped himself, feeling Jin’s eyes on him and was acutely aware that all conversation in the room had stopped.

“Mom!” Sun shouted, rushing over to his mom to take her hand. “You said you wouldn’t give Hwo that message!”

“Yeah, well,” Moon sniffed, crossing her arms and fixing Hwoarang with a hard look. “I’m the one that had to deal with Chu’s cranky attitude once he came home, so that was from me,” she winked. “Don’t pull that shit with me again, Hwoarang.” She uncrossed her arms and reached out to give him a big hug in her usual manic way. The redhead stood stiffly before fumbling to return the gesture and then Sun joined in and he really felt Jin’s eyes burning into his back.

The rock was rolling towards the hard place and Hwoarang felt like he would be crushed in a very socially awkward way. Everything was spiraling out of his control, even without worrying about Devil. He breathed a sigh of relief when Doyon pulled him out of the way and announced that they should all get something to eat.

“I can’t stay cooped up in this room. I didn’t get a chance to visit the bar, meet some other businessmen… I don’t get opportunities like this too often.” He looked over and placed his arm around Jin’s shoulders as the other man stiffened visibly at the too-familiar gesture. “C’mon, Kazama. Let’s get to know each other better over a few beers, yeah?” He laughed and looked over to Hwoarang.

The redhead shrugged, “You wanna come down, Jin? Didn’t your schedule put you in for a match early tomorrow morning?”

“Y-yeah,” the other fighter sighed with relief. “I’m facing Julia at seven o’clock. I need to prepare…”

Hwoarang watched him nod respectfully at Doyon and the pudgy blonde simply laughed. “Fine, fine, we’ll get out of your hair, Kazama. Don’t want you losing on the first day.” He turned back to Hwoarang and ushered everyone out of ‘their’ room before leading the way down the hall to the hotel lobby to find something fun to do.

Hwoarang paused in following them, looking back to see Jin turn and walk further along the hallway to his room. He looked over to his friend before looking back after his lover. “Shit…”

“Oi, ‘Rang! Ya comin’ or what?!” Doyon yelled obnoxiously.

Hwoarang gave his best cocky smile and waved, “I’ll meet you down there. I have to do something!” He practically sprinted along the hallway, only catching up with Jin once the other man had opened his door and was stepping inside. “Jin…” he slapped his hand against the wall and breathed heavily, catching his breath before the door shut behind his lover. “Jin?” he let the door click shut behind him and he peered into the darkness of the room.

“What?” Jin asked, his voice was calm and void of emotion.

“I…” Hwoarang started, balling his fists. He stared at the other man, barely visible in the dim lighting of the room before he grunted irritably and crossed the distance between them.

Jin was stiff when he placed his palms on his shoulders. Stiff and resisting, even when he pulled him close and kissed him for all he was worth.

Damn, Hwoarang kissed him, made Jin _feel_ how badly he wanted him and how the arrival of his friends wouldn’t change a thing.

The dark-haired man relaxed into the embrace and tightened his own grip around the redhead’s neck.

When they finally broke for air, Jin held them close, face to face and Hwoarang looked plainly into his eyes. His bravado was gone – he’d left it out in the hallway with Doyon – and all he wanted right then was for Jin to… to… he just wanted Jin. His hand began its questing descent down Jin’s arms, kneading the thick muscle of his biceps and was surprised at the shiver of excitement that ran up his spine before he stopped himself.

“Y-you probably want to meditate, huh?” he was still a breath away from Jin and he felt the warmth radiating from the other man. Jin smiled and that simple act washed away all of Hwoarang’s anxiety and trepidation over the changed situation. He cocked a grin too. “Keep that evil fucker under wraps, Jin. I know you can,” he stole another quick kiss before backing away and flashing the key card he’d lifted from the other man’s pocket. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be waiting…”

Hwoarang bit his lip and forced his feet to keep moving away from Jin. He had so many indecent thoughts flashing through his mind, and they didn’t stop the entire elevator ride down to the lobby.

It wasn’t until he’d seated himself across from Moon and Sun in the lounge that his brain finally shifted gears and he switched to his native Korean, which seemed to change his attitude back to his tough façade. He spotted Doyon talking to a man at the bar and took the opportunity to start smoothing things over with Moon.

Sun scuffed his feet on the plush carpeting and sucked back a monster milkshake while Hwoarang explained to them how the matches worked and the way to get good seats. He could see Moon’s frown lightening as he talked and she finally broke out into a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I had to leave you guys like that,” he finally said, playing with the beer coaster.

“Heh, I’m sure you are, ‘Rang…” she lowered her eyes before taking a gulp from her own glass. “Chu didn’t seem too pissed when he finally came home. I…” she looked away and Hwoarang swore he could see tears glinting in her eye.

“He was fine!” Sun broke in, patting his mother on the arm. “Hwo said he helped him, and he did!” He turned back to the redhead. “That man upstairs… was he the friend you left to help?”

“Yeah,” Hwoarang said, looking back to Moon and deciding not to say anything more about her brother. Hitch was the only family she had, besides Sun, and despite her tough appearance, he could tell she loved him dearly.

Just then, Moon’s phone buzzed to life and she rolled her eyes, slapping her hand onto the device that was vibrating across the tabletop. She looked at the screen and frowned. “Doy’s got me stuck in an office all damn day learning English and making deals with assholes overseas. He wants to expand his fucking business and for some reason, he pulled me off the tables to handle all this crap,” she narrowed her eyes. “He says you had something to do with that…”

“Uh…” Hwoarang muttered, looking to Sun who was smiling brightly. He looked back to her, not really finishing the opening grunt and she sighed.

“I hate all that cordial bullshit…” she huffed, looking at her phone again before looking at her son. “But I guess… well, we should get going, then,” she pushed her chair back and motioned for Sun to follow her. “I need to find the business centre of this place to get some work done, and this guy should get to bed.”

“Bye, Hwo!” Sun yawned and hopped up from his chair. “I can’t wait to see you and Jin at the fight tomorrow! I really like him!”

“Yeah,” Hwoarang nodded, watching them leave just as Doyon walked back from the bar. “Yeah, I like him too.”

The pudgy blonde set his beer on the bare tabletop and sat heavily in the leather chair, looking hard at Hwoarang. “I figured as much…”

The redhead cut a look back to his friend, his brow furrowing. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

Doyon huffed, squaring his shoulders as he hunched across the table. “I knew you wouldn’t leave us for just _anybody_ , ‘Rang. I knew it was going to be someone important to you. But… fuck… getting involved with _that guy_ ,” he sucked his teeth before muttering under his breath. “I pegged him for a fag the moment I saw him.”

Hwoarang felt his blood racing and he had to resist the urge to jump up and deck his friend. What the hell was he saying? He briefly thought of hiding his relationship with Jin, but that notion got him angrier. Why the fuck should he hide it?!

“Doy, you’d better shut the hell up _right now_ before I beat the piss outta ya.”

The businessman reached into his pocket for a cigarette, taking a long drag before looking down his nose at the fighter. “Just be careful, Hwoarang,” he breathed, the smoke flying across the table, thought he words stung worse than the grey smog that hit him in the face.

“Mind your own business, prick. He’s my boyfriend, alright? I don’t need your goddamn permission.” He didn’t care that other people were looking at them. At least they were still speaking Korean; not too many people would understand their words.

“Fine, fine, whatever, ‘Rang,” Doyon slid his pack of cigarettes across the table for the redhead to take. “Forget I said anything about him, then.” The silence grew between them for a long moment before he changed gears and cocked his head to the side, “So, what happened with those wings? How did that shit go, anyways?”

Hwoarang fought the urge to continue the argument – he sure as hell couldn’t _forget_ about it – but decided to follow his friend’s blatant change of conversation if only to avoid a brawl. “Ugh, it went and it’s still going.”

“He’s the one you came out to help…” Doyon looked at him analytically. “He an angel too… or maybe a devil?”

Hwoarang chuckled. “It’s some freaky shit…”

“But you enjoyed yourself… the fight, I mean?”

“I suppose…” Hwoarang thought back to the big blow out over Yakushima. Aerial fighting was incredible and aside from the danger, and the utter fear that he’d felt when he’d reached inside Jin with his mind… yeah, he’d _really_ enjoyed himself. “I’m looking forward to the tourney, though,” he decided to change the topic again. He liked Doyon well enough, but he didn’t need to go into the details of his time with Jin on the island. “There’s a few people I’m looking forward to putting down, and Baek Doo San is back.”

The blonde businessman nodded, “I heard about that. Some group on the plane over here was all pumped for seeing him or you or something. Ya gotta represent, Gi. Get invited to some places so I can meet a few people…”

“Cut it with business,” Hwoarang yawned, rubbing his eyes and looking across to his friend. “I’m fucking tired.”

Doyon’s expression flattened out and he looked thoughtful for a moment. “Gonna hop into bed with you boyfriend, then?”

Hwoarang folded his arms over his chest. “Yes.”

Doyon cracked a smile, “No need to get all defensive.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do when my friend starts bashing on me for liking a guy?”

The blonde huffed out a sigh and scratched the back of his head. “If I sounded pissed, it’s cuz I didn’t see it coming, is all. I thought I knew ya… but I guess shit happens, right?” he gestured to indicate the wings that weren’t there.

“I’m not _gay_ ,” Hwoarang said flatly.

Doyon waved off the statement with a laugh. “Don’t split hairs with me, man. I don’t give a shit if you like to walk up and down the street in a dress and screaming show tunes at the top of your lungs. My boy, Mick was dating some guy a while back – not that I give too much of a fuck what any of my guys do. Gay, bi, I don’t give a shit.” He reached out for Hwoarang’s glass, drinking the last of the redhead’s beer. “The way you swing isn’t my business, so-long as it doesn’t _interfere_ with my business.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hwoarang frowned, stealing another cigarette. He still got a weird feeling from the other man, even though his earlier behaviour screamed of intolerance. “I’ll catch you later. I’m going to see Jin’s fight in a few hours.” He pushed his chair back and walked out of the bar, leaving his friend to mingle with the crowd that still filled the lounge at that late – or rather, early – hour. In a way, he was glad that his friends had shown up, though he was still seething with the other man’s words.

His blood only began to settle when he slipped into Jin’s room. The curtains were drawn and the only light in the room came from the glowing numbers of the alarm clock. He moved to the bed by feel; stealthily removing his clothing and climbing under the covers wearing nothing but his boxers. He stretched his limbs out across the king-sized bed until he felt the warmth of Jin’s body and he pressed the balls of his feet against the other man’s leg. He loved having all that room and he’d use it all, even if he woke with a kink in his neck. Well, a couple hours of sleep wouldn’t be enough to do any real damage, anyways. There was no way he’d miss Jin’s fight.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Devil contemplates his position from within his golden prison. He's aware of events beyond the golden walls, including Jin's relationship with Hwoarang. He is trapped in his rage at this fact, until he can feel the dark call of a kindred spirit promising him release.

He could feel the danger radiating from the golden walls. Everything burned him when he touched it, warming to an uncomfortable temperature. He cursed again, leaning against the golden pillar. His back was hot, but instead of screaming in pain, he let the sensation wash over him and fuel his anger. The cage was small, too restrictive to spread his wings, too circular and claustrophobic for a creature that was accustomed to moving freely, flying wherever and whenever he wanted, destroying anything that tried to stop him. He was accustomed to spreading his wings, soaring high and burning whatever caught his attention, tearing it to pieces. The cage that trapped him to the ground was intolerably painful.

“ _Hn,_ ” he muttered, closing his eyes in an uncharacteristic display of rest. His host was becoming stronger and he despised it. The more powerful the human became, the less sway he’d have and soon he’d be unable to take over the strong and muscular body at all. That fact alone had made Devil pace in his golden cage, burning his fingers as he attempted to claw his way out. When that failed, he’d been forced to bide his time, thinking back to the moment he should have made his move.

He’d watched Jin fall in with the wrong crowd time and time again. The naïve boy had believed their lies and trusted them with his life. How foolish and stupid! Devil howled with laughter each time Jin was betrayed; it was so beautiful. He could feel his precious host suffering and alone and it sent a shiver of excitement through him as he felt his power over the human increase. Each time it happened, Jin cracked a little more to his will. Each time someone stabbed him in the back – or shot him between the eyes – Devil felt himself grow a little stronger and influential in his position. His strength grew, his seat as the one in control of Jin’s mind would solidify that much more and Devil would chortle, snidely commenting and pushing the human over the edge.

Somewhere it had all gotten away from him and he was left in his golden oubliette.

The dark creature leaned its head back, gazing at the midnight sky that teased from the opening of his prison. Hwoarang was what had happened to him, he thought, half-imagining the Korean soaring through the sky. Devil was closed off from the outside world, blocked from seeing or experiencing what was happening to his host. Still, it was hard to ignore the act that Jin participated in which filled every crevice of his being with the smell of sex and… ugh, Devil couldn’t even think about it without feeling nauseous. The walls surrounding him had become stronger with the passion and affection swirling about inside of Jin, causing him to drop to his knees. Devil had strained to peer through a chink in the golden walls, taking in everything from Jin’s psyche from that obscure vantage point. He spat on the ground, the saliva sizzling as it splattered the wall of his prison. The pure, touchy-feely shit Jin was allowing himself to experience was getting to him.

The horned beast shook his head at the memory and growled, clenching his hands and fighting back the nausea. Jin’s heart was opened to this man, and the Korean filth didn’t appear to be using Jin as the others had. This only strengthened the feelings more and continued the vicious cycle that threatened to send Devil reeling with disgust. The body he’d fought to possess and use for his own was now a prison with no escape, with long-repressed feelings crashing down on him and he knew he’d drown if something didn’t change soon.

The passion that had grown tenfold since that redhead had appeared to them in Yakushima.

Devil stood from his place against the wall and stretched, his wings awkwardly opening halfway as he bent forward to work the kinks out of his back. He kicked up a bit of dust and began his pacing around the perimeter like a caged animal at the zoo. The chains around his leg rattled in a comforting sound that brought back thoughts of metal and burning fire. He had to plan a way to reverse positions with his host, and he knew the opportunity would arise at the tournament. The change of scenery and overwhelming crowds never boded well for Jin’s mental state and he would somehow use that against him. His eyes sought out the break in the wall, peering through the golden opening into the world beyond. He strained to see what was happening, feeling out the terrain and change of scenery from the small area he could see. He instantly knew they were at the tournament, he could feel the strength of the fighters coming at him from all angles. The energy of the participants and crowds surged through that opening and gave Devil a good idea of what was going on. The fighters were strong when pitted against each other, but would burst like weak maggots under his claws. It was a sea of fresh meat _ready_ for the slaughter, but he was trapped by those goddamn pillars! Still, through the sea of errant thoughts and greed for victory, he could feel something else. Someone whispering in a voice that sent his blood chilling through his veins. Something just as black-hearted and wicked as his own burning soul was outside, and it was rejuvenating him.

Devil, already wearing the face of his host, Jin, closed his eyes and breathed in that delicious black aura that sifted through the air and surrounded him. He raked his claws across his chest, spreading his palm flat along his shoulder before digging in and clawing across to his neck. It was so delicious and welcome. The creature outside was a part of him that he’d broken away from what felt like a lifetime ago; the same malicious and bloodthirsty spirit that had called him out at the end of the last tournament. He recognized the twinned-Devil within Kazuya Mishima calling to him, beckoning, even through those holy pillars to his prison. He drew his claws from his body, hissing in pain as they took with them a stream of blood. He’d dug deep, but the sensation was enough to make him feel alive again, and he lazily touched the golden walls again, spreading the blood around as it sizzled and popped – two opposing forces meeting and reacting. This time, however, the blood stained the gold to a dull rust colour and Devil threw his head back in a shrill laugh.

Devil stepped back from the wall, clenching his hands as they smoked from where the gold had burned off the blood and seared into his flesh. The midnight sky twinkled above him and the creature could feel his deliverance at hand. The pillars glowed with strength around him, though he could feel the pulse of his own twinned power throbbing inside and out. Soon he would break a crack in his prison walls. He’d reduce the pure gold to dust, pulverizing the walls that were built with confidence and strength realized from that redheaded freak. Jin may have opened himself to Hwoarang, but one other man could not help stop the storm that was coming.

Not when Devil got close to his other half.

Not when he was strong enough to break free and show Jin the true meaning of fear.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doyon decides to find out for himself if Jin is good enough for Hwoarang.

Doyon closed the hotel door behind him, mindful to keep from waking the two slumbering bodies he left behind. He really hated waking up so early and grumbled as much when greeted by another guest in the elevator.

“Hello again!” the girl with the pigtails said in an all-too cheery manner for that time in the morning. “Going to see the early matches?”

He eyed her, his face cracking into a leer when he remembered her from the day before and the cute bathing suit she’d been wearing. He eyed her up and down, noticing her petite – but fucking well defined – body. Damn, Bloom would kill him for that. “Yeah, just going to watch someone fight.”

“Oh,” she seemed to remember something, placing her finger to her mouth. “You mean Hwoarang?”

“Not exactly,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking out of the elevator.

She followed behind. “Come with me!” she said, grabbing him when they approached the entrance to the arena. The security guards eyed him suspiciously and he shot them a glare back. He fucking hated these rent-a-cops, though these ones seemed to be better equipped than any security he’d seen back home. He popped on his sunglasses, despite the early hour, and eyed the entrance from behind his dark shades. Four guards, each well protected with light firepower… they all seemed to have been trained in physical combat, with the way their arms bulged from beneath their short-sleeved shirts. He bowed his head; security cameras too. Damn, he didn’t like getting caged into shit like this, but then again, he had a bigger purpose.

He looked back to the girl who had taken his wrist and was holding on tightly while trying to pull him in a different direction. “What do you think you’re doing, girl?” he asked as nicely as he could even though she was starting to annoy him.

She winked and led him to a side entrance where she said something to the guard who quickly stepped out of the way and let them inside. Doyon watched the guard before his attention was drawn to the beach and the large, portable bleachers that had been set up for the spectators. There weren’t many people around, despite the appeal of the fight the crowd was sparse. Not that Doyon paid much attention to things like that; what he was interested in was the man who would be fighting that day. He allowed the girl to lead him around to the front of the bleachers, and watched as the girl maneuvered her way to the best spot. There were already a few people seated there. The girl released his hand and approached them on her own, leaving Doyon to fold his arms over his chest and watch as she began speaking to them. He eyed them carefully as she did, picking up the innocent and cheery tones she used in combination with a few keywords that would eventually make them move. It was forceful negotiating that Doyon could truly appreciate.

Within a few moments the people had vacated the spot and Doyon sat heavily on the plastic bench. “Damn, girl, you’re pretty good at that.”

“Good at what?” she asked as she winked in a way that made the Korean think she might be playing with him too. “I’m Ling Xiaoyu, by the way. Who are you?”

It was a blunt topic change, but he let it slide. “Ling, huh? I’m Doyon.” He lifted his sunglasses and propped them on his forehead while he talked to her. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old. He tilted his head a bit and let the eyewear fall back into place. She was nice enough, but he was there for someone else, and it took him a moment to locate that someone in that nearly-empty ring. He didn’t recognize the track suit that the fighter wore, though he did gauge Jin’s height and build and figured that it was probably him. He was due to fight, and who else would be stepping into the ring at that ungodly hour?

He ignored the woman who stepped in opposite the Japanese man. She had dark hair, in braids or something, but Doyon couldn’t take his eyes off the man. The one who his childhood friend was probably fucking or getting fucked by. Hell, he didn’t want to think about it…

The bell rang to announce the start of the match and the blonde Korean watched them face off; watched Jin block the first attack before lashing out with a move of his own. He didn’t recognize any of the moves, though he heard murmurs through the small crowd that gave him the impression that each way the guy moved had its own name, each attack had a title. The woman took an offensive stance and Jin blocked or dodged everything she threw out, fluidly lashing out with a few harsh kicks of his own.

Damn, Hwoarang sure did know how to pick them. The blonde ripped his sunglasses off to properly watch as the Japanese fighter effectively juggled his opponent in the air with a series of kicks and punches. It was terribly impressive.

The bell finally rang out and the second round was over. Despite her strong demeanour and fighting style – he _guessed_ \- that woman, Julia or whatever, wasn’t doing so hot. She climbed to her feet after a few moments and walked over to speak with Jin. It seemed strange and Doyon was ready to hop up and see if he could read her lips. He’d always been a bit of a nosy little fucker, but that idea left him when he caught sight of someone more familiar. Someone who’d been on his mind since leaving home and visiting Japan for the first time in ten years. Xiaoyu seemed to have met up with a friend and he excused himself as she giggled while the other girl was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

He walked with purpose, though he kept his footsteps quiet as he approached Hwoarang. The redhead was standing with his arms folded, staring out at the fighters at the far side of the beach that had been corded off for the match. Despite the early hour, and the time that Doyon _knew_ that he’d gotten to sleep the night before, Hwoarang’s expression seemed serene… or high, Doyon was never good with distinguishing between the two.

“Hey,” he muttered, fishing a smoke from his pocket when the other man didn’t acknowledge his arrival. He held the filter between his teeth and lit the end. “Pretty fuckin’ early, ain’t it?”

The redhead seemed to start at that and Doyon didn’t miss the dark shadow that fell over his eyes when he looked away from Jin. Well, looked at _him_ , anyways. “What are you doing here, Doy?” Cold.

“What does it look like?”

“Casing the fight?” the redhead raised his eyebrows expectantly. “I don’t think there’s much to rip off here…”

“Nah,” the blonde laughed louder than he’d intended. “I’m just watchin’ the fight. I ain’t never been to a live one of these… well, never something so official and nice looking. Those underground fights don’t get this kinda publicity…” He inhaled sharply, drawing the cigarette away from his lips and letting the smoke out through his nose. “But that’s not exactly it, either,” he said, looking back to Jin who was taking his place against Julia again.

“Fuck, are you going to be sayin’ more shit against what I got with Jin?” the redhead asked. Damnit, he was still upset or defensive. The blonde grinned; he knew Hwoarang rarely got that worked up over anything. He must have been really serious about Jin.

“Actually, I wanted to see your boyfriend.”

That shut Hwoarang up.

Doyon took a deep breath and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. He didn’t do heart-to-hearts. _At all_. He looked squarely at Hwoarang. “I wanted to see him fight, see if he could handle himself, ‘Rang.”

“The hell? Of course he can! He went up against me, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, you know, you’re not _that_ tough, eh?” Doyon smirked before getting serious again. “Look, I can see what this guy means to you, and I didn’t want to see you get hurt if he was some faggy pussy… Uh, no, that’s not what I meant to say. If he gets hurt and dies. I mean, if you get all attached to him and he _leaves_ … what happens to you?”

Hwoarang’s smirk quirked up a fraction. “Man, let me tell ya something; you’ll die before that guy does. He won’t lose easily; he held his own against me, and that’s saying something. He’s seen worse shit than you and lived.”

Doyon frowned. “What about you?”

“I… I’m starting to see the shit he’s seen. It’s fucking freaky, man… but I won’t leave him either. I _won’t_.”

“Yeah?” He’d never heard his friend talk so passionately. Well, with as much passion as Hwoarang ever had. “This have anything to do with the… uh, you know what?” he gestured to the absent wings on Hwoarang’s back.

The redhead got a far-off look as he watched his lover out on the sandy beach, kicking up and blocking an attack before swinging out. Doyon began to wonder what kind of wings or powers the other man had if he was worse off than Hwoarang. He’d committed the image of Hwoarang with the white wings to his memory. Fuck, he couldn’t escape the dreams that had started up again – it was partially why he’d come to the tournament – he wanted to make sure his last living friend from the old neighbourhood would live past thirty.

“Fine, fine, ‘Rang,” he changed the subject. “I guess I came off bad the other day, so I wanted so say I’m sorry for that.” He felt his back tighten up at the apology; he didn’t make apologies either. He mentally ticked off the list in his mind of shit he’d never say to Hwoarang again; talking about his feelings and saying he was sorry being at the very top. He didn’t want the other man to get the impression he was going soft or anything like that.

He looked out at Jin, maybe he was. “Shit, I can see that bastard is good for you, ‘Rang. Hell, you wouldn’t get up this early for _me_.” He watched the other man kick out and catch the woman in the jaw, sending her flying. His body was solid but still moved fluidly through the air. “I can see the way he looks at you… and, well… I know you guys are good together, so I won’t get in the way.” He pitched his cigarette to the ground and folded his arms over his chest. “That’s it, I’ve said my piece.” He nodded and turned to leave, feeling his cheeks burning as he did so. Fuck, why did he feel so vulnerable right then?

Doyon looked back to see Hwoarang walking out to meet Jin, his lover, at the centre of the ring where he was proclaimed the winner. It would be a long tournament, but they were off to a good start.

He looked around for the exit and dug around in his pocket for the phone number he’d gotten from the lounge the night before. He’d met a man who seemed to share his vision for business, and if he could get a meeting set up with his boss… he might have more overseas contacts for Moon to deal with. He grinned widely and fished the last cigarette from his pack. He’d have to thank Hwoarang for suggesting he put her to other work; she was really good at negotiating for him.

He eyed a notice board for scheduled fights, committing to memory the first match that Hwoarang would have the next day. He had a feeling he wouldn’t see the other man before then, something about the way that he’d approached Jin after the fight… He rolled his eyes and looked back to the ring, but it had already cleared out for the next match. He saw Hwoarang’s bright hair across the sea of people as he led the dark-haired fighter through another set of doors. Yeah, Doyon sighed and turned away, he was glad they weren’t sharing a room anymore.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tournament is progressing nicely, and while Hwoarang advances his standing in the rankings, Jin attempts to get to know his friends.

He could feel the sweat sliding down his cheek and dripping off his nose. He watched his opponent from under his brows and sneered in irritation at the angelic purring in his ear. Urgent whispers as she tried to give him some advice.

“Would you fuck off?” Hwoarang muttered, dodging a powerful attack from the wrestler that stood opposite him. ‘ _I can fight on my own. I thought you were supposed to only worry about Devil?_ ’

“ _Hey, I’m starting to like you. Can I help it if I want you to win?_ ” she almost laughed as he sprang backwards, avoiding the luchador who dove at him. “ _Maybe you should try some of your fancy footwork. I like seeing you do that and I don’t think he could handle it._ ”

“…still don’t need your help.” Hwoarang mumbled while dancing lightly on the balls of his feet and switching his stances with his kicks, taking the large man off guard.

She seemed to shut up after that, but he could still feel the mirth that was emanating from her spirit that had meshed so deeply with his. He felt the lightness and power within him throbbing to break free and release the wings from within his back. He grit his teeth and dodged a powerful kick, trying to roll to the side, but somehow failing as he was picked up and thrown across the ring. He landed gracelessly, choking on dust as it clung to his sweat-soaked body. “Fuck…”

“ _What are you doing? Take him out!_ ”

He sprang to his feet and lashed out with a kick that would knock the other fighter over, giving him a moment to catch his breath. He listened to the roar of the crowd around him and the bloodthirsty way they cheered. He couldn’t distinguish who was yelling for who to win. He took a deep breath, shaking his head once before opening his eyes and fixing his opponent with a hard glare. There was no way he’d allow himself to be cut down so early in the tournament. Not by anybody but Jin.

He tensed his body, his entire frame coiled up like a spring, muscles clenching tightly before he bolted towards the other fighter. His entire body spun, his leg kicking out at the precise moment and catching the luchador in the face. He landed gracefully, his opponent crashing to the ground seconds later and the ground shook. He could feel the energy rise in the crowd and looked out to the sea of faces. There were a few flags being waved, the red, white and green standing out from the crowd, though his eyes were drawn to the grouping of South Korean flags. The white background with red and blue yin-yang was a beacon, drawing his attention almost directly to his friends and his Japanese lover who stood with them, silently watching the fight.

“Hmm, that’s round one,” the redhead muttered, looking back to the other fighter in the ring. The other man was climbing to his feet, growling through the leopard mask as he did. Hwoarang flicked a trickle of blood from his nose and focused his attention back to the other man. Everything seemed to fade away; angel’s pestering, the cheering crowd, his own bruised body. He could only see his opponent before him, though, as he took his stance and the bell for the second round sounded, he swore he could feel Jin’s gaze on him.

+++

“C’mon, ‘Rang! House-train that cat!!”

Jin stood to the side of the crowd that had all-but absorbed him into their group and marched him into the arena to watch Hwoarang fight. He thought everyone would have ignored him and gone to watch Hwoarang without him, but that man with the blonde hair had made a point of bringing him along. The only ones he knew in the group were Hwoarang’s friends and the men from the onsen in Yakushima. His head was still swimming with how he’d come to be there. He’d foolishly answered the door to his room without checking the peephole. Before he’d known what was happening, he’d been put in a headlock, pulled into the hallway and dragged off to the match amid a crowd of Hwoarang’s countrymen. His presence in the group had gained them access to decent seating, which he suspected was one of the reasons Doyon had brought him along, but he had to admit that once they got seated, he didn’t mind being invited along. They were overly enthusiastic in supporting the redhead, who represented them, and the blonde was at the centre of the cheering mass of people; the man Hwoarang claimed to be his childhood friend. Jin had never imagined the redheaded fighter having any good friends, let alone such old and close ones. Even considering the man’s history with Hwoarang, Jin still kept on the outskirts of any conversation that the bottle blonde tried to engage him in; his words were tinged with greed and Jin was left on edge whenever the topic of the Zaibatsu was brought up. There was also a pretty woman in the group who he’d briefly met in the hotel room, though was never properly introduced to. She reminded him a bit of his mother… though, he’d never really seen his mother yelling into a cell phone so eloquently as this woman.

She appeared to be fumbling over a few words, though Jin knew English well enough to see she could handle herself with it, even her firm tone bespoke of how she was commanding the situation. She was proper and businesslike on the phone, but that dropped the minute the phone snapped shut and Jin’s ears were burning with the string of cursing that shot past her lips. He was glad that his Korean was so rusty that he only caught a few words. She smiled sweetly enough at him when she was finished her rant with Doyon and even made polite chit-chat with him, though Jin was glad when the phone rang again and she had to excuse herself to deal with the caller in an area that wasn’t packed with roaring fans. She skillfully maneuvered her way to the stairs and out to the hallway, leaving behind the only other member of the group that Jin hadn’t properly met.

The dark-haired man turned to find the boy he’d only seen talking to Hwoarang but never had the chance to speak with – not that he was eager to interact with children. He always felt like he should be trying to smile more just to make them feel more at ease, but it was so tiring to keep up such an act, and then there was the fact that topics of conversation that would interest him and them were few and far between. He looked over at the boy who was bouncing on the balls of his feet, clinging to the railing for dear life and practically trying to climb down to the ground level. Jin looked over to the people they were with, and realized that he’d have to be the one to grab the kid before he fell.

“Don’t fall,” he said, walking down to where this boy was and then ineffectively standing there and hoping he listened. The boy reminded him of a little Hwoarang, although he didn’t know why.

“But, I wanna see… ohh! Did you see that, Jinny? That was Hwo’s Sky Rocket move! He told me about it once, but I can never get my leg moving fast enough…”

The boy stopped trying to climb over the railing long enough to witness Hwoarang repeat the move a second time. He kicked King high into the air before he rolled onto his feet and followed up with a flourish of kicks as the luchador fell to the ground. The execution was fluid and precise and Jin had to admire the way his lover moved when in the heat of battle – he’d never had the opportunity when he was fighting Hwoarang directly. Then his attention shot back to the kid. “How’d you know about his moves, uh…?” he trailed off, realizing that he’d never been properly introduced to the boy or the angry phone-woman.

“I’m Sun,” the child filled in the blank with a knowing wink. Damn, hadn’t Jin see Hwoarang do something similar? “Uncle Hwo was living at Doy’s place for a couple of weeks and he taught me how to fight a little bit.” He looked down to where Hwoarang was delivering the final blow to his opponent. “I want to be just like him… even though he’s so good, I hope I can be that great.”

Jin didn’t know what to say, he looked out at the ring as Hwoarang stood victorious, though his gaze was directed right at Jin. He could feel it. “Nothing worthwhile comes easily, Sun,” he found his mouth moving, though he didn’t know where the words were coming from. “If you want something, then you have to work for it,” his words rang true for training and fighting, though he couldn’t help think of it in a different light when he looked down to the redhead in the ring. “And if you don’t know you want it, you have to work twice as hard…” he breathed the last bit, though he was sure that Sun had heard him, even over the roar of the crowd as the Koreans around them leapt into the air as one solid mass of jabbing limbs and waving flags.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tournament is progressing, with the matches occurring at a rapid-fire pace that leaves both Hwoarang and Jin exhausted (and closer to their match against each other.) Hwoarang can't sleep and neither can Jin and they do the only thing they can.

Hwoarang’s leg flew through the air, dragging the blankets along with it. Instead of connecting with the opponent in his dream, the momentum of the kick carried him out of bed to fall gracelessly onto the floor with a loud bang. He lied there, staring off into the darkness under the bed for a long moment, trying to decide what the hell happened. “Ungh,” he moaned, realizing that it had been a dream. A really _vivid_ dream.

He could have sworn he’d been in a match, fighting in a bout against… someone; he couldn’t remember who. The number of participants in the tournament had decreased as they were bumped out of the rankings. This left those remaining with an increase in their number of matches. Hwoarang enjoyed testing his skills, but the timing and bizarre locations of his matches had been too unnatural for him to enjoy. The only thing he was enjoying was the fact that he’d be able to go against Jin, and then the tournament would be over. Of course, even that fight wouldn’t happen quietly for them. The media surrounding them was working itself into a frenzy as it speculated over who would win or if something new and exciting happened between Hwoarang and Jin during their match. It was getting ridiculous; after Hwoarang had finished a match with a pretty young blonde girl, he hadn’t even been able to leave the ring before a microphone had been stuffed in his face and he’d been asked what he thought about his upcoming match against Jin Kazama.

The interviewer rattled off some strange things that Jin had supposedly done, something that Hwoarang had supposedly said, and a whole lot of fabricated nonsense that the Zaibatsu had fed them to make things more exciting. They also wanted to know exactly how he planned to deal with Jin, his hated rival, during their rematch. What had he done to train and did he consider his most recent opponent, Emily Rochefort, a warm-up for his match with Jin. After dealing with that circus, he’d been happy to return to Jin’s hotel room and crawl into bed beside his boyfriend. The other man was already asleep – despite the early evening – and Hwoarang had shrugged off the thought of meeting Doyon for a drink in favour of pressing his back to Jin’s and getting some sleep.

Things were getting a bit stressful, above the usual hassle of being at a tournament. He’d noticed Jin becoming more withdrawn and quiet – not too much more than usual, but Hwoarang had noticed nonetheless. He’d also noticed Angel’s silence, though he figured she was just resting or something. Her absence in his head was welcome, though that fact did nothing to help him sleep properly.

Hwoarang grunted as he rolled over and tried to disentangle himself from the sheets before climbing back into bed. “Shit,” he muttered, fighting with the coverings before victoriously kicking them away and crawling to his knees. He leaned on the edge of the mattress and looked over to the other man lying in bed.

Without the thin coverings – now on the floor - Jin’s body was exposed and open for Hwoarang to take in. He raked his gaze over the form that he’d have been all to happy to beat into submission… before. The other man was stretched out on his back, one arm lazily draped over his stomach and the other stretched out to where Hwoarang had been lying previously. He didn’t find the male form particularly arousing, but there was something about Jin that got his blood pumping for something that wasn’t a fight. His gaze worked upwards, over the chiseled muscle and stopped when they locked with the wide, dark eyes that stared back at him.

There was a little light peeking around the curtains and a quick glance at the clock confirmed that they still had a few hours before their first match that day. Hwoarang’s heart sped up; he was ready to go. His body was ready to fight ever since his dream, but now his blood was pumping for other reasons.

Jin arched his eyebrow in silent inquiry, shifting slightly in the cool air that prickled his flesh that had been, until then, warm under the sheets.

Hwoarang couldn’t keep his mouth from breaking out into a wolfish grin and he placed his palms flat against the mattress, making a show of pulling himself off the floor and crawling over top of where Jin lay. He pressed a knee between Jin’s thighs, which parted easily enough, letting Hwoarang lean in close. The redhead pressed a palm into the mattress by Jin’s head, lowering his lips to hover a breath away from his lover’s mouth. He could taste the air between them, hot breath caught in a vortex between their mouths which was swallowed up as he leaned in, covering Jin’s lips with his mouth.

The kiss was firm and comfortable and Hwoarang closed his eyes as he sucked Jin’s lip between his teeth. The flesh was soft and pliant beneath the wet muscle of his tongue and he sucked harder. Jin’s hands traced along his sides, dancing over a cluster of nerves, sending the redhead to squirm to the side, half-moaning as he was tickled and he grazed his teeth along Jin’s mouth, biting down hard. The other man grunted low and soft in the back of his throat and Hwoarang grinned around the captive lip before releasing it and pushing forward to meet Jin’s tongue. The soft muscles met and dueled half-heartedly in the darkened room as Hwoarang lowered his body against Jin’s. His mind was still hazy around the edges with sleep and exhaustion, though his body was wide awake and eager to free itself of his boxers.

He moved to lick along Jin’s throat as he arched his body away, keeping his mouth anchored to his lover’s neck as he tried to remove the shorts. After a few moments of struggling, he felt Jin’s hands on him, moving lower to hook around the waistband of his boxers and firmly yanking the offending clothing away. He was not gentle about it; he removed the clothing in one harsh movement that left Hwoarang gasping when he felt his cock bounce free and graze against the material of Jin’s sleep pants. Any errant thoughts of stupid dreams flew from his head as the Korean roughly dragged the clothing from Jin’s body as well. The two men rolled about on the bed, trying to remove any last shred of clothing while keeping in physical contact with one another. When Hwoarang drew back from his oral assault on Jin’s throat and chest, panting and desperate for more, his hands sought the other man’s body, grasping at parts that he never thought to claim as his own. Jin reciprocated. It was a desperate act, full of the need to possess each other completely and wholly with the unspoken knowledge that… this may be their last time together.

Neither man said it.

Jin may not have been thinking it, but Hwoarang shivered whenever the thought made itself known at the back of his mind, and his actions became more aggressive and desperate again. He grunted in satisfaction once he tossed Jin’s sleep pants somewhere across the room and pushed the dark-haired man against the mattress. Right then was what mattered, it was the only thing that Hwoarang would let occupy both their minds, and he’d make this time count. The redhead lowered himself against Jin, capturing his mouth in a wet and confident kiss. His erection slid across his lover’s thigh and he ground down hard and kissed deep. Jin arched up against him and parted his thighs wide, allowing Hwoarang to drag his nails down the trunk of Jin’s body, briefly teasing his thick cock before reaching further down and pressing against his ass.

Hwoarang continued his oral assault on Jin’s lips and body, letting the other man reciprocate whenever he could, but maintaining his control. It was difficult, especially when Jin arched his hips upwards, spreading his thighs wider to give the redhead full access to his body. He groaned, bringing his fingers up to suck on them, lubricating them as much as he could, when Jin motioned for him to wait. The other man reached into the bedside table and withdrew a small bottle of oil. Jin sighed, quickly pouring the liquid into both their hands. He set the bottle back where he’d found it before catching Hwoarang by surprise by wrapping his calloused fingers around his cock and beginning to stroke him with desperate abandon.

It was the force he used that shocked Hwoarang and he could have come right then, feeling Jin’s thighs tighten around him, locking him against his body. He grunted again and pressed his fingers against Jin’s entrance. His _tight_ entrance. He was gripped with a sense of urgency as he pressed his digits past the other man’s ring of muscle. He did his best to slip another finger inside, spreading them apart and fingering his lover’s most private area. He continued his preparation, intoxicated in the way that Jin’s body responded, rocking his hips in time to the thrusting fingers, and the breathy panting that was loud in the Korean’s ears.

“Hwoarang…” Jin moaned, grabbing the Korean’s dick with both hands in an attempt to keep from touching himself. His cock happily bounced against his abdomen; abandoned but not forgotten. “I-I’m ready… I’m ready, you can fu- uh, please, just go…” his voice rose in octave as Hwoarang thrust his fingers inside one last time. It was all the notice he needed. Jin spread his legs again, showing his eagerness for Hwoarang to move, pressing the head of his cock against Jin’s entrance.

Hwoarang clenched his jaw as he eased inside Jin’s body. His breathing was loud in his ears, or maybe it was his blood rushing through his veins. Jin was spread out before him, his arm thrown over his forehead and his dark eyes never leaving Hwoarang. His body was hot and pliant around Hwoarang’s dick as the Korean collapsed forward, pressing his forehead against Jin’s chest.

He thought he’d have to pause and let Jin adjust, but the other fighter was moving along with him. His legs tightened around Hwoarang’s back, pulling his ass high into the air and meeting the redhead’s thrusting with equal fervence. It was hard, fast and precise fucking that caused Hwoarang to toss his head back in utter bliss. Absolute rapture. He could feel Jin beneath him and he let out a groan before he panted his name. “Jin…”

It was hot to his ears and he said it again. Hearing Jin’s name and knowing it was Jin beneath him sent a tingle shooting down his spine and straight along his cock. He said it again and again, turning himself on with his name. “Jin… Jin, oh, fuck…”

Jin lied beneath him, his body glistening with sweat and his mouth was moving in time with Hwoarang’s. Moving silently, whispering, panting for more. “Hwoa… rang… oh, please keep going… don’t stop…” he inhaled sharply, his throat hitching on the moan that followed.

Hwoarang gripped Jin’s shoulder and increased the ferocity of his thrusts, sharply driving forward and growling incoherently as Jin moved in all the right ways beneath him. His eyes were rolling back in his head and Hwoarang growled again, kissing his dark-haired lover and swallowing up his moans as his body went stiff. Hwoarang kept moving, grinding his cock into the crushing grip of Jin’s ass as their bellies were spattered with come. It was just more sensation, more pain, more pleasure. It was definite and painful and could have kept Hwoarang lingering on the precipice of his release. He arched backwards, Jin’s legs tight around his waist and it was Jin’s throaty low tenor that pulled him over the edge. Jin’s voice was a melody of pleasure; incoherent and pure as it cut through Hwoarang’s being and he was crying out in his own solo of release.

His orgasm crashed over him in a wash of ecstasy and white; an empty sea of white behind his vision that broke when he opened his eyes to look down at Jin. He still felt raw; twitching and panting unevenly as the last electric sparks of his release flared through his body, but he needed to see Jin and the way those dark eyes were looking back at him. Jin’s smiles were small and infrequent, but they conveyed so much more than words, and at that moment, Hwoarang was glad, because he didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to collapse against his lover, grip him tightly and wait until morning.

He didn’t want to sleep again, didn’t want to lose a minute as the clock ticked down to their match.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang is noticing Jin's descent into something darker than he is.

“ _You think you’ve found happiness, don’t you, my precious _host_. Well, enjoy that little rat while you can. Do you really think he can make a difference? He is nothing! Nothing!! Once I have found my other half, that pest will be the first thing I tear to shreds. Then, I will proceed by order of what you love… greh, disgusting. No matter how hard you work for it, you will never win. Your little golden cages never last for long, and I _**always**_ break free in the end._ ”

+++

Hwoarang kept his arms folded over his chest and stared out at the ring before them. The holographic simulators had created this area to look like the Antarctic, complete with sliding penguins and frost breath. The Zaibatsu had really gone all out in making it feel like the frozen South and he rubbed his arms to bring some feeling back to them. Turning the arena into a giant freezer was too much.

Ling Xiaoyu stood beside him, clapping her hands together and hopping from one foot to the other as she yelled out encouragement to the fighter who was a few feet away from them. Ring-side seats only meant being colder.

It had started nice enough; Jin had bowed politely and said whatever was on his mind, though after the second round, with each man holding a victory, things were becoming desperate… and violent.

Craig Marduk was a huge man and could take a beating as well as give one, though the moves Jin had been displaying were leaving him a bloody mess. Hwoarang watched with growing… _concern_ , frowning deeper when he saw Jin drop to one knee before punching out to send Marduk flying with a devastating Corpse Thrust.

“Wow, Jin’s really strong!” Xiaoyu said, leaning against Hwoarang. Her jacket and mittens did little to warm the growing pit of cold inside of him as he watched his lover follow up with a brutal uppercut. He recognized the flares of electricity moving over his taught body, concentrating in his hand before he lashed out and determined the match with that final blow.

Xiaoyu said something else, though Hwoarang didn’t hear as Jin was declared the winner and stepped closer to the ring. Getting closer to see Jin pressing his hand to his head, and getting a sick feeling as he knew what was happening. It was just like the times that Jin had asked for a spare moment to centre himself, or that day when Devil had won out and taken over… Hwoarang balled his fists as he circled the ring to meet Jin as he tried to escape from the arena.

“Jin…” he folded his arms, unsure what to do with them.

“Not now, Hwoarang,” the dark-haired man said, trying to brush past him. Hwoarang felt his anger flare and he stalked after the other man, catching his arm and stopping him from disappearing into the change rooms. He could see the darkness flaring in Jin’s eyes as he looked warningly at him. His hair was severe and away from his face, even the little licks of bangs that somehow managed to fall in front of his eyes were lost in the mess and Hwoarang reached out to touch the splash of blue that mingled in the dark tresses.

Jin inhaled sharply and Hwoarang pulled him close, whispering into his ear. “I know he’s there… if you don’t want my help, then take a time out. You were pushing yourself out there…” He looked back to the arena where he could see the medics carrying Marduk away on a stretcher. “Don’t make me think of something encouraging to say, Kazama.”

To his surprise, instead of pulling away, Jin leaned into the caress. Hwoarang spread his fingers, cradling Jin’s head as he pulled him into a hug and suddenly felt the cold and the contrast between Jin’s body and his own; Jin was freezing. He closed his arms around the other man, surprised that he’d fought bare-chested in that low temperature, but grateful that he could warm his dark-haired lover in that way.

After a few minutes, Jin sighed and propped his chin up on Hwoarang’s shoulder, never relinquishing his hold around the redhead’s body. “I-I think I’ll be okay now,” he said slowly. “I can control him, but it’s just… something outside of me is giving him strength and I don’t know what it is. It’s hard to fight both of them, and… I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Of course you can,” Hwoarang tried to say lightly, arrogantly. Part of him was eager for a fight he could sink his teeth into, but that was only part of him, and it was much smaller than the other part that thought back to their night together, hoping it wouldn’t be the last. The thought of something _besides_ Devil getting into the mix also left him feeling uneasy. It was like there was a giant fist coming his way that was going to hit him like a freight train, but it was invisible and he had no idea where it was coming from.

That fist was getting closer; he knew it when he’d woken that morning with Jin sleeping beside him. He’d watched the other man’s features crinkle erratically as he dreamed, some internal warning system telling him that shit was getting out of control fast.

That shit would probably hit the fan soon. He could feel it, and he fucking _knew_ it when he saw the way Jin had fought moments earlier, but what could he do? “Don’t let that asshole win,” he muttered against Jin’s hair, nuzzling the blue streak. “And if you think there’s enough of a fight for the two of us, do me the favour and invite me in on the tag match, eh?”

He could feel Jin nod in agreement.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tournament is drawing to a close, meaning that the weaker fighters have been eliminated and only the strong remain.  Jin's strength is put to the test; has he finally overcome Devil?  Has Hwoarang fulfilled his promise?

Hwoarang rocked back on his seat, kicking his boot up on the chair in front of him and watched the monitors with rapt attention as Xiaoyu faced off against Asuka.  He had some time to kill while he waited for Jin’s next match to start and the monitors were convenient and distracting from his churning thoughts.

It was interesting to watch a match on the big viewing screen; complete with the commentator’s observations, the scorings and the fancy animations that were inserted in real time to make the entire experience more exciting.  The screen zoomed up on Xiaoyu as she kicked the other girl high into the air and then sent her flying halfway across the ring.  He was sure the crashing sounds were dubbed in, though he had to admit that the fights looked more dazzling on television.  Xiaoyu waited patiently for Asuka to climb to her feet and then she waved in a taunting fashion that seemed to enrage the other girl.  Asuka scowled and said something that wasn’t picked up by the microphones before she rushed forward, only to be kicked into the air again.

Hwoarang laughed at the jokes the commentators were making just as he felt Angel shift in his consciousness and grab his attention.  She was buzzing with energy – had been since he’d woken that morning to feel her pacing inside his mind.  “Mind settling down?” he muttered to her, looking around to see if anybody else had heard him.  “You’re making me a little edgy, ya know?”

“ _I’m sorry…_ ” she said, which made Hwoarang frown.  She never apologized so quickly.

‘ _What the hell is going on?_ ’ Hwoarang thought in the loudest voice he could manage.  ‘ _You’ve been tossing and turning all morning and Jin is fighting in a couple hours.  Just… cut that shit out because you’re really pissing me off._ ’

He waited for her to respond, but she’d shut up again.  He frowned just as a hand on his shoulder made him jump.  He looked over at Jin who’d looked like he’d been sitting beside him for a while.  He ignored Angel – who seemed to breathe a sigh of relief – and tilted his head towards the other fighter.  “Who’re you up against next?”

“I don’t know,” Jin shrugged.  “There’s a match happening in a few minutes in the next building; my opponent will be whoever wins that match, but…” he shifted uncomfortably and folded his arms over his chest.  “I want to see that match for myself.”  He looked serious, his eyes shifting to the exit.  “I have a strange… feeling.”

Hwoarang nodded before looking up at the monitor and noting that Xiaoyu had mopped the floor with that Asuka girl, completely owning her in two rounds.  “Then let’s see who that unlucky bastard is gonna be, Kazama.  I’ve only been paying attention who _my_ opponents are.  I don’t even know who’s still in the game, so let’s check it out.  This chair is uncomfortable, anyway.”  He rocked back and forth a few times to add visual evidence to the statement before he followed Jin out the door.

+

Jin felt his heart speed up as they stepped into the largest arena that the Zaibatsu owned.  The steps down to the ringside seats felt too long and narrow, the roar of the crowd was deafening, and the surging fans that engulfed them definitely made him feel a bit claustrophobic.

The match had just started and the mass of spectators were already worked into a frenzy.  All attention focused to the centre of the arena where the holographic generators and construction had created a fantastic representation of Hon-Maru temple.  On fire.  The dark lighting and bright red glow, combined with the presence of the crowd made Jin’s stomach tighten up and he wished he’d eaten something more substantial that morning. 

Without thinking, he grabbed Hwoarang’s hand, only wanting the stability that the other man offered.  He sighed when he felt the Korean squeeze in response and they worked their way closer to the temple.  Jin steadied his breathing as a headache started at the back of his head.  “Crap…” he muttered, shaking his head just as the redhead tightened his grip to crushing force.

“Shit, that’s Baek!” Hwoarang shouted suddenly, pulling Jin close and pointing at the two fighters who were about to start off the second round amid the roaring flames.  “Let’s go!”  He pulled Jin’s arm, and the dark-haired fighter could only follow. 

They maneuvered their way around the groups of people, past a security checkpoint and down to the ringside seats reserved for other fighters, their friends and anybody else who could bribe their way in.

It was set up like the stage of a play; with the fiery courtyard as the main stage, the set was mostly real materials, with several walls and faux buildings to solidify the illusion.  Hwoarang pulled Jin to the edge of the ring, eager to get as close to his mentor as possible. 

All the detail and realism was lost on Jin as he approached the set.  His feet became heavy, feeling like lead and he sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving the fight happening before him.  He was gripped with a pang of terror that coursed through him like electricity as he looked up into the cold, hard eyes of his father.

Kazuya saw him.  Their eyes locked for a brief moment before the older man turned to deal another devastating blow to his opponent inside the ring.  But that brief second was enough to leave Jin feeling like he’d been slapped in the face.

“ _There he is…_ ” Devil whispered, “ _this should be fun…_ ”  Jin could feel the golden pillars that made the Devil’s cage, their strength weakening and crumbling in the presence of his father.  The part of devil within the older man was adding strength to the beast inside his own soul.  It was sudden and jarring and overwhelming.  Jin sat on his haunches and watched as his father casually grabbed his opponent’s foot mid-air and threw him to the ground, breaking the floor in the process.

“D-damnit…” Jin shuddered, feeling the alien force churning within him.  The pillars shuddered and rattled and somehow he looked to Hwoarang.  The other man still had a firm grip on his hand and Jin drew strength from that.  If Hwoarang would be there, he knew he could weather what was to come.  He’d suspected that Kazuya would be there, and he just _knew_ that his father would be his opponent in a short time.  That feeling hadn’t prepared him for actually seeing the older man there – nor the surge within Devil – but the surprise was past and he would be ready.  He had to be.

Jin nodded to Hwoarang and released his hand before moving to a seat and closing his eyes to centre himself.  He let the sounds meld into one; the indistinct roar of the crowd swallowed up even the Devil’s growls and he breathed in the sweat and blood of the match before him.  Then he transformed the scene into something else.  The roaring crowd became the roaring fall of Yakushima’s Toroki falls as they crashed into the ocean.  The smell of sweat became saltwater and the blood became sweet, floral, and something other than pain.  He breathed out the negativity within him and inhaled light and purity.  Whatever the outcome of his match, he would be strong enough to retain his own sanity.

+++

Hwoarang bit his lip when he saw Jin start his meditation, hoping his lover was alright before looking back to the ring where Kazuya was regarding him.  The older man looked between him and Jin, barely concealing the look of disgust.  He sneered and turned his back just as the bell sounded to begin the third round.  He clenched his fist and watched as Jin’s father faced off against Baek, the man who, essentially, had been his own father and master.  Baek appeared focused, unaware of anything beyond the ring and his opponent, reacting in perfect form when Kazuya made the first move towards him.  He blocked, gritting his teeth and twisted his hip, kicking out in retaliation.  The match progressed; explosive and violent as the temple burned around them.

Hwoarang watched as his master moved with precision.  It had been so long since he’d seen the older man fight, but it all came back to him as he moved into the Flamingo stance and prepared to dish out some hurt.  Hwoarang paced back and forth, looking around the ruins of the temple and waiting for the match to end; he needed to talk to Baek about what had happened with the military.  He didn’t want Baek to think he was a murderer, or that he’d abandoned him or… whatever those bastards had said about him.  Yeah, he’d left Baek behind, but he didn’t have a choice.  He knew that Baek could handle himself, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty.  He muttered some choice words in Korean as he paced, feeling his own body tense as the older man was thrown across the ring, catching himself at the last minute to avoid falling on his head.

“Baek!” he called out, balling his fist when he realized he couldn’t interfere in the match.  There was something wrong with his opponent.  Kazuya’s eye was glowing oddly and, with a sinking feeling, Hwoarang realized what the hell was going on.

“Fuck, is _he_ the one messing with Jin lately?” he said aloud, not caring to keep his discussion with Angel internal.

“ _Yes and no._ ”

“Start making some goddamn sense,” he said through clenched teeth as Baek Doo San successfully connected with Kazuya in a series of switch-kicks.

“ _Well, you’re not asking very clear questions,_ ” Angel grated out.  “ _But, if you want me to read your mind, then **yes** , you have been sensing Kazuya and his Devil affecting… oh, hell…_”

She trailed off and Hwoarang felt his heart jump up into his throat.  The roar of the crowd slowed and he became hyper-aware of things around them, like the South Korean flags waving about the cheering fans and the subtle movements of the fighters in the burning temple.  He recognized the stance Baek had taken, performing a low-sweeping Dark Halberd which was powerful and would most likely win the round if it connected.  Hwoarang watched as his master stepped low and swept his leg out; the driving limb moved through the air, missing its mark as his opponent blocked it.

Hwoarang and Angel watched as the older Korean was left open and vulnerable.  The crowd’s volume seemed to escalate as Kazuya wrenched him upwards and pummeled him with a few light attacks before hunching over slightly and forcing a frightening amount of energy into his fist.  The move smacked of a simple uppercut, though Hwoarang’s voice caught in his throat as Angel whispered something about an Electric Wind Godfist.  Hwoarang watched as time seemed to resume and Kazuya’s fist connected.  Baek’s body flew through the air, crashing down onto the ground and remained still.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the match and Hwoarang was seeing red as he rushed forward, stopped only by the barrier that surrounded the ring.  He felt a burning need to exact a fighter’s revenge from Kazuya.  He looked at the scarred man who was calmly observing him, a sneer of disgust written on his features as he looked between Hwoarang and Jin again, seeming to put two and two together.

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes at him as if to challenge the burning look they were receiving.  They hadn’t been subtle about their relationship – not with Jin holding his hand on the way to the match – and if Kazuya had a problem with it, then fuck him.  Jin didn’t need his permission, and Hwoarang sure as hell didn’t.  He looked back to his lover, seeing the other man standing and ready to take on his father right then and there.  He had confidence that he’d win the next match, but his thoughts were drawn back to the medics that carried his master to the side of the ring.  They set Baek’s limp frame on the ground and a few Zaibatsu staff rushed around him, carrying med-kits, but he didn’t trust them for a second.  He looked back to Jin who was preparing to enter the ring against his father.  He tightened his jaw and nodded to him before turning and running to the side where Baek was; he needed to see to his own father.

He rushed up on them, pushing one Zaibatsu medic out of the way and grabbing another by the shoulder.  He’d draw on all of Angel’s powers to heal Baek’s wounds if he had to, but with all these people getting in the way, he’d have to break some heads first.  He grabbed the woman in the doctor’s coat and growled in his native tongue for her to move.

She spun around, smacked his hand free and got right in his face, chewing him out in the sweetest-sounding Korean he’d heard in a while.  “Back the fuck off, asshole!  I’m his personal physician,” she made ready to shove him backwards when her words died on her lips and her eyes grew big, matching Hwoarang’s expression.  Her mouth tightened into a thin line that tilted up at the edges and she tightly wrapped her arms around his neck.

It took Hwoarang a moment to process what was happening, but he found his sense to return the embrace before pulling away to look at her again.  “Yon, oh God, it’s really you!” he finally said, feeling the waves of relief washing over him.  It felt like an eternity since he’d seen her last, and it had always been at the back of his mind that she’d be caught and punished for helping him escape from the military hospital.  To see her there – with Baek – lifted a weight that had been resting on his mind.  “What… how the hell did you-?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” she cut him off, “but right now, I have to make sure he’s okay…” she returned to Baek, kneeling beside him and barking some orders to the Zaibatsu nurse that was trying to muscle her out of the way.  Hwoarang was quick to take his place at his master’s side opposite the doctor and lean in, trying to get the older man’s attention.

“Baek, c’mon,” he said as he watched Yon doing her thing.  “Baek?  Baek?  …Baek?”

“Hwoarang…” Yon warned, but the redhead couldn’t stop himself. 

“I didn’t want to leave you, but those assholes were just fucking with us!”  He clenched his fist in the older man’s dobuk but stopped when he realized Baek had cracked his eyes open and gave him a sideways look.  “You… you’re awake!” he nearly laughed and got in closer to the man he considered his father.  He never could keep his defenses up around the older man and he felt all his fears rushing out to meet him; did Baek think he was a murderer?  Did he believe the lies that Major Kang would have fed him about being a traitor or whatever-the-fuck-else he’d come up with.  He wanted to set the record straight _right then_ and tell him what really happened.  He had a myriad of things to say that would let the other man know, but as Baek looked at him, beaten but still strong with all of the stern, fatherly presence he’d always had and Hwoarang’s words left him and he bowed his head.  “I-I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Baek tried to lay a hand on his student’s head, though Yon pulled his arm back to finish bandaging his broken fingers.  “It’s not like you, anyways.  Yon told me all about it, so don’t worry-!” he winced in pain and looked over to the match that was taking place behind them.

Hwoarang turned in time to see Jin and Kazuya having their own father-son moment.  He shifted back to his master while bowing.  “I have to go… please excuse me.”

The older man smiled as he nodded, gesturing for the redhead to go see his friend while he went to the medical office.  He sat up, grimacing as he pushed himself to stand.  Yon argued with him, trying to push him back down, insisting he’d be carried.  He tried to insist he was capable of walking, but she wouldn’t listen.  Hwoarang turned away from them, half-listening to their friendly dispute while looking to the fight that was already underway.

Kazuya drove a fist through the ground of Hon-Maru temple, sending broken pieces of rock flying everywhere, narrowly missing Jin as he rolled out of the way.  The two men fought with venom, like two serpents ready to fight to the death with all their poison at the ready.  Jin still seemed himself, though Hwoarang noticed that he wasn’t holding anything back.  If Kazuya didn’t block or dodge in time, if only _one_ of Jin’s attacks connected, the older man would be in trouble.

“Shit, this is intense…”

“ _Aren’t you going to cheer him on?_ ” Angel asked, half-joking.

“He’ll be… fine…”

“ _You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?  Or maybe you have more faith in Jin than I do… but I doubt it._ ”

Hwoarang sneered at the comment, mentally recoiling from her.

“ _Kazuya is… the originator of the devil gene.  When he supposedly died, it moved into Jin, making him its host.  So, when Kazuya came back… it’s like Devil was torn in two, and with the two of them so close, those halves are calling to each other._ ”

“Yeah, but Jin is strong enough to handle that shit,” Hwoarang growled with a ferocity that nearly convinced himself.

“ _…I thought Kazuya was strong enough to handle it, especially with me helping him…_ ” she seemed to fade away before shaking her head and focusing back on Hwoarang.  “ _Jin’s Devil has probably been difficult lately.  Ever since you two got together._ ”

“Being difficult?  For being with me?”

“ _Only because you make him stronger,_ ” Angel hummed.  “ _Oh, and Devil doesn’t want Jin to be happy either… I don’t think Devil likes you in **general** , so, there’s a lot standing against you…_”

Kazuya knocked Jin backwards, his fist exploding with raw energy.  The younger man managed to block, but faltered and he seemed to shake his head to clear it.  The brief distraction left him open as his father leapt into the air and kicked him in the face.  The attack triggered an explosive bolt of blue electricity that shot from the older man and threw Jin across the room.

“Shit!  Jin!”  Hwoarang called as the other man crashed through some timber and stone, sending burning embers flying.  He rushed to the side of the ring where Jin had landed, feeling a jolt of excitement as he saw his lover climbing from the sooty ruins.  Jin wiped a splash of blood from his mouth, turning to look right at Kazuya with deadly intent before charging back to unleash a few brutal attacks of his own.

He pulled back, drawing up some strength before driving his fist into his father’s ribs with a killer Corpse Thrust.  The momentum sent the older man stumbling backwards and Jin followed, never letting him fall to the ground.  He kicked his father into the air, catching him with an uppercut as he fell and then slammed him through a wall.  It was relentless and precise and completely foreign to Jin’s style.

“Jin!”  Hwoarang called out, watching with horror as his lover moved in for the kill.  “What the hell are you doing?!”

The man with the flash of blue in his raven tresses stopped dead in his tracks, his fist hovering in the air as Kazuya collapsed to the ground, unconscious.  He seemed to waver, watching the older man for a long moment before lowering his head and turning away.  The announcer declared him the winner and the roar of the crowd permeated the air, though he didn’t seem to notice any of it.  He left the older man on the ground as he turned back to Hwoarang.  His eyes were clear and wide, as if he were in shock.

The lights went down and the holographic generators faded away, leaving only a smouldering pile of rubble and timber and a full view of the mass of spectators.  This sudden change seemed to trigger the crowd into a murmur of excitement as the announcer began a speech that hyped up the story behind the tournament.

Jin walked with determination towards the edge of the ring where Hwoarang was waiting.  The lights were low, too dark for anyone in the stadium to see the way Hwoarang grabbed the fighter and pulled him into a crushing hug.

Jin breathed heavily against his shoulder, “Devil _wanted_ me to kill Kazuya… and I wanted to do it too, but I couldn’t...” he pushed against Hwoarang’s chest, looking into his amber eyes.  “When you called out to me… it was just like at the end of the last tournament when my mother stopped me.”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, Kazama,” he looked back to Kazuya.  “I’m not sorry you mopped the floor with him – he did fuck up Baek’s shit – I just didn’t want you to give in to Devil to do it.”

“But… I think I finally did it,” Jin’s eyes were wide with excitement and he beamed with an ecstatic grin.  “After you called out, I couldn’t hear Devil anymore.  He’s getting weak.  I think I can finish this tournament on my own…”

“Are you sure?” Hwoarang narrowed his eyes, something felt off.  Devil wouldn’t just back away all of the sudden, not unless he was planning something.

“Yeah, I think so,” Jin almost laughed.  “I feel really good, like I could take on the world… or even you...”

Hwoarang shifted uncomfortably, Jin seemed fine, but something was off and he couldn’t decide what.  “Heh, now I know something’s wrong, if you think you can beat me, Kazama.” 

He wanted to say something else, but his concerns remained unasked as several heavily armed tournament staff approached them, each packing shiny new high-tech armour and sub-machine guns.  “Stop hugging; you two are scheduled to fight next,” what looked like the commander barked at them.

Another man grabbed Jin by the arm and wordlessly tried – and failed – to yank him away.  Hwoarang glared at the soldiers before smirking, “What’s to stop us from kicking your asses?  You saw how Kazama fought out there, imagine what I can do!”

The man closest to him sneered with cocky delight as he fired a blast from his gun into the air to show it was loaded.  The cheering crowd drowned out the sound of the explosion and he aimed the gun at Hwoarang’s head.  Other guards set their aim at Jin and the two fighters looked at each other.  “Our boss wants to make sure you two find your way to the cathedral without any trouble.”

“That’s fine,” Jin said, winking at Hwoarang and walking towards the exit.  “We’ve been waiting for our rematch for ages, right Hwoarang?  We have a big rivalry, after all.”

“Yeah, that’s what they say…”  He swallowed thickly and followed Jin through the exit towards the next stage.

They left the arena just as the announcer wrapped up his spiel, whipping the crowd into a near-mass hysteria for the upcoming match.  “So, with his father defeated, Jin Kazama will proceed to the Cathedral where he will face off against his _hated_ rival, Hwoarang!!”


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blood Talon finds himself in his long-awaited match against Jin, and he's not too sure if it's a good idea.  Jin claims Devil has left him alone for good, but Hwoarang isn't so sure.  He must beat Jin to keep the other fighter from reaching the final stage and the great evil, but how far will the redhead go to stop him?

Hwoarang tapped his foot on the cathedral floor, the marble and tile echoing throughout that cavernous room.  It was such a strong contrast from the previous fight venue with the hoards of screaming fans.  The walls were connected and solid, the cathedral was real, feeling like a well-decorated pit match.  He tilted his head back, taking in the balconies built above the cathedral and the small, exclusive crowd that peered down at them, just like an audience in an operating theatre.  He huffed and stomped his foot, the crowd created an excited murmur above their heads, their voices hushed and urgent as if they were conditioned to respect the quiet of the cathedral.  Hwoarang had no such conditioning and loudly stomped his foot again, eyeing the cameras that whirred above their heads.  They hovered about, completely wireless and independent of each other, capturing every aspect of the fight area and projecting it back to the holographic generators in the arena they’d been in a few moments earlier, fooling the crowd into thinking they were really there.  The Zaibatsu had made a habit of putting the competitors in exciting and exotic venues, and the crowd had come to expect the scenery to change every few fights.  Holographic simulators were the obvious answer, keeping with the tradition of differing venues while incurring little expense or effort.

Hwoarang looked across to Jin who was standing still, his eyes focused on Hwoarang with confidence that left the redhead feeling uneasy.  The previous fight against his father had pushed Jin to his limits, but he was acting as if he’d just woken from a long sleep.  He was energized and excited to fight, and while, under normal circumstances Hwoarang would have loved the idea, he only felt anxious and resentful.

“ _You know Devil hasn’t left him because **you** never gave up so easily._ ” he could feel Angel’s mirth before it shifted back towards Jin.  “ _He thinks Devil has left him to return to his father,_ ” she sighed.

‘ _He’s acting fucking **high** , is what he’s doing._’ Hwoarang thought.  ‘ _What the hell should I do?  I can’t fight him like this!_ ’

“ _You **have** to fight him like this, Hwoarang.  Devil had a shot at overtaking Jin when he went up against Kazuya, but you helped him withstand that.  Now… that bastard’s got one shot left; if he can hold out for Jin to reach the last stage of the tournament, there’s no way he can lose… and you can’t let that happen._ ”

Hwoarang looked out at Jin who seemed so clear and light-hearted as he raised his fists, ready to fight.  He was pushing himself, ignoring the obvious fact that Devil wouldn’t back off so damn easily.  Jin didn’t want to believe things weren’t getting better.  He really believed that bastard had given up and the Korean realized that there was only one way out of this fight.  “Oh, fuck me…” he turned to his side.  He readied himself for whatever happened as strange rock-organ music began to pound through hidden speakers, echoing nicely as the signal came for the fight to start.

Jin moved first, rushing towards Hwoarang with a light step and eager fist that just barely missed his face.  Hwoarang backed away from the attack and dropped down, swinging out with his leg to catch Jin off balance.  They started off slowly, almost like lovers feeing each other out for the first time.  However, the honeymoon didn’t last and their bodies began to move with more force, remembering what they had been trained to do.  Rock-hard muscles powered driving blows against either man and the music hastened their steps.

The stained glass rattled in its frames as the two men continued their violent dance within the cathedral.  Blue flames licked up the walls from the torches and the cameras buzzed around, capturing every move.  The Blood Talon fired out with powerful machinegun kicks; each one driving to end the fight in a flurry of overpowering blows, each one blocked and countered by his dark-haired opponent.  The moment was an intoxicating mixture of adrenaline and blood as Jin avoided being hit and swung around, his fist tearing the skin around Hwoarang’s eye. 

He saw the blow coming, Jin’s gloved hand driving for his face and he didn’t seem to move out of the way.  It passed his cheek, catching his face and he could feel the tearing skin.  His eye watered from the damage, tears stinging the wound and mixing with blood that trickled from the ripped flesh.  After that, when the pain began to tint the edges of Hwoarang’s consciousness, everything seemed to fade away and his drive to win took over.  He side-stepped a driving jab and hooked Jin square in the ribs, dropping the other man to his knees.

He pressed his advantage, booting his opponent halfway across the cathedral and slamming him into a stone wall.  Jin’s movement seemed to pause as he slid down the wall, his feet catching the floor before he grunted and fell forward.  He landed on his hands and knees and spitting on the ground; bloody evidence that Hwoarang had won that round.

The music faded back and the announcer piped up, declaring Hwoarang the victor of the first around.  The Korean eyed the balcony where shadowy faces peered down at them in a creepy voyeuristic nightmare.  He looked back to Jin who had picked himself up off the ground.  “Are you alright, Kazama?”

“ _You’re supposed to be defeating him, not coddling him!_ ”  Angel hissed in his mind.  “ _What the hell was that round?  I’ve swatted at flies with more venom!  Step it up, otherwise this will turn out very badly, Hwoarang.   Defeat Jin for his own good.  Hell, he’s not even in his right mind right now!_ ”

He ignored her and stepped over to his lover, “Kazama?”  The blue fire flickered from the torches against the wall, casting an ethereal glow around the dark-haired fighter as he climbed to his feet.  Hwoarang eyed the cameras that flittered about, following a set pattern of rotation as they orbited the room.  He looked back to Jin just in time to see the fist driving right for his face.

His entire body shot backwards, his feet scraping along the floor and kicking up dust.  He could taste blood.  “Damnit!” 

Jin’s eyes were wide and unseeing as he gaped at Hwoarang and he tossed his head back, trying to stop his feet from moving forward.  “…it’s happening again…”

“Shit…” Hwoarang stepped forward and cracked his neck.

“Hwoarang… he deceived me…” he staggered to the side, Devil’s hold wavering for a moment.  “I don’t think I can do this anymore…”

“Jin!” He took a step forward, damning the cameras and anyone else who was watching.  Fuck, the whole world was watching, but all he could think of was Jin.  He drew close, only a few steps away from him, a short distance for him to reach out and place a hand on Jin’s shoulder, never once averting his gaze from his lover’s eyes.  “Jin…”

“Please…” he rasped, “defeat me.”  Those dark eyes were wide; brimming with fear and desperation.  “…make it so my body is too damaged to use!”  His teeth ground down, his neck craning at a painful angle and then his fear broke.  Just like that.  That emotion suddenly shattered through his dark orbs, leaving light eyes brimming with electricity and hatred.  Anger and hostility focused solely on Hwoarang. 

Jin’s fist shot out with godlike speed, grabbing Hwoarang by the throat and lifting him into the air.  The bell for the second round sounded and his body seemed to flare with electric current.  He drew the Korean in close, sneering maliciously as the redhead struggled to breathe.  “Now…” he breathed with a throaty laugh.  “I will show you the meaning of fear…”

“ _You’ve gotta fight him…_ ”

“Shit!”  Hwoarang kicked out, hitting Jin squarely in the ribs, but that only caused him to sneer in irritation and tighten his grip around his throat.

“ _Hwoarang, if you don’t win this match…_ ”

Jin hauled back with his free hand, punching him in the chest.

“ _… then Jin really will lose to Devil and you’ll never see him again!_ ”

Hwoarang felt his eyes rolling back as he struggled for breath.  He bit his lip until he tasted blood, unable to hold back the feral growl and he stepped onto Jin’s knee, gaining some purchase to raise his other leg and kick him across the face.  The action bought him a chance – Jin’s fist loosening around his throat - and he stepped even higher, lifting his leg over Jin’s shoulder and kicking the back of his head.

Jin stumbled behind him, the force of the blow knocking off his sense of balance.  Hwoarang landed gracefully, holding his throat and gasping to catch his breath.  Jin had been serious about strangling him, too serious.  He spat on the ground and spun around to face his lover; this wasn’t the Jin he knew.  Devil dirtied him whenever he took over, and now that he’d come to know Jin as fully as he could, that thought pissed him off even more.  “Don’t think I’ll go down so easily, asshole!”

Jin brushed himself off and turned.  He said nothing, though his white eyes shifted, as if contemplating how he’d devour Hwoarang before he charged forward again.  The move was clumsy and easy to read; their eyes locked, just as his punch missed its mark, and Hwoarang stared into the white depths as he grabbed Jin’s fist and used it as leverage to kick him in the chest.

The dark-haired fighter crashed into the ground, rolling as he did and springing to his feet in one fluid movement.  Hwoarang was on him again and kept pummeling, never letting up.  He switched from left-stance to right, kicking out in a chain of attacks while throwing a few punches in for good measure.  He couldn’t afford to be fancy or show off, not if what Angel said was true.  Jin’s moves were erratic, leaving plenty of openings one moment, and then switching to a vicious assault that Hwoarang could barely block the next.  If he timed it right, he could take him out… the interim, however, would be the most dangerous.  He tightened his posture, flexing his back and arms, feeling the trickle of sweat that moved across his skin, dripping off his brow. 

Jin was close, very close, and changing very quickly.  His hair crackled with electric charge, his body burning with the tribal tattoos, which were the first outward display of Devil’s presence.  He narrowed his eyes and rushed forward, electricity and lightning flaring out over his skin, burning the sweat right off his flesh.  His eyes flashed as he stepped heavily, his foot breaking the ground and his fist cracking through Hwoarang’s defenses and into his ribs.  The Blood Talon didn’t even have time to move before Jin snapped his hips, shifting his entire frame to build power and backhand him with brutal, inhuman strength.

Hwoarang flew back, bouncing along the ground and rolling awkwardly before hitting the wall with a sickening crack.  Everything was hazy and he was vaguely aware of the buzzer sounding, indicating that round two had finished.  His mind buzzed with Angel’s voice and his own dizzying pain.  Buzzing and hazy, he smelled something funny in his nose, but it could have just been his mind.  He coughed, tasting blood and looked up, he blinked as bits of stone and cement fell into his face – the wall had cracked from the force of hitting it – and he turned his head to brush the dust away.  Jin’s strength was inhuman, meaning that Hwoarang was running out of time.  One for one, they were evenly tied.  He groaned as he shifted on the ground, his ribs complaining and the music shifted into a high pitch as the third round started.  He had one chance left to end this. 

The Korean rolled over and climbed to one knee, looking back at his opponent who faltered in his steps once more.  “Jin…”  Amber eyes took in the form of his lover as he pressed a hand to his dark locks, as if to quell the pain inside his head.  The Blood Talon had no idea what was going on in there, or how much longer they had until the black wings and vicious horns sprang from the other man’s body.  He guessed the battle with Kazuya had zapped most of Jin’s strength, and the way the tournament had been organized left little resting time between some of the fights.  Devil had used that fact to his advantage and deceived Jin.  Letting him believe the dark beast wouldn’t have a chance in hell to break free, or any opportunity to kill Hwoarang.

The redhead climbed to his feet, spitting on the ground.  Damnit, he wouldn’t let that happen.  The burden of being a murderer didn’t sit right with him, he knew it would destroy Jin.

The dark-haired fighter straightened his back and flexed his muscles, his eyes glowing with an inhuman flash of white and purple.  “I promised him I’d destroy you,” he chuckled in a maniacal tenor.  “He actually thought he’d beat me.  He actually _believed_ that you gave him strength!”  His voice pitched into spastic laugher and he tossed his head back, cackling as his body flared with fatal lightning.

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes, his vision shifted and things seemed to kick into slow motion.  He wouldn’t miss this opening Devil was giving him and he propelled himself across the cathedral floor.  His steps fell in time with the throbbing music, keeping that driving rhythm as he assaulted Jin with a vicious barrage of switch-kicks that sent him flying against the wall.  The Blood Talon didn’t relent and was on him again.  He dropped low as he kicked Jin into the air, rolling backwards as he kicked again, the momentum firing Jin against the floor like a missile. 

Hwoarang landed gracefully and turned to watch Jin slam into the stone ground at the centre of the cathedral.  He narrowed his eyes again, watching Jin sputter as he climbed to his feet.  The azure torchlight seemed to reflect upon him, casting a strange blue light and Hwoarang looked up to the wall.  The wall he’d been thrown into before.  The wall he _knew_ was damaged… weak enough to break through.  The cameras flittered about, locked in the aerial track and ready to capture Jin’s inevitable transformation and agony unless Hwoarang did something. 

He took a deep breath and watched Jin sputter, wiping blood from his mouth.  He was there for Jin; every tournament he’d ever participated in had been for that infuriating man.  He had trained with Angel’s power to help him, and now he’d have to use that power to defeat him.  His entire reason for getting stronger was to be with the quiet and avoidant man, to make him open up and acknowledge his existence.  This entire journey had been so much more than was promised by either Jun or Angel.  He’d never dreamed he’d feel more for Jin than he did right then, or that Jin could ever look at him with more than a nod or roll of his eyes and quick excuse to not fight.  Damnit, before Jun had approached him, he was just surviving.  Everything he ever did was for Jin.

Everything.

He closed his eyes and reached within his mind, searching for the familiar white energy that contrasted so pure and holy against his inner red turmoil.  Angel’s power; the energy he’d ignored for the entire tournament was strong and eager to bend to his will.  He felt her divine light surging through his body and he cracked his neck, tightening his fists and focusing everything on Jin.

The other man was behaving arrogantly and so unlike himself.  He waited with a cavalier manner, confident in his victory that he had not yet achieved.

It wasn’t Jin.  Not _his_ Jin.

Hwoarang growled as he launched himself forward, his first two punches were anticipated and blocked, but even Devil wasn’t prepared for the unending and devastating barrage of kicks that Hwoarang followed with.  He pushed his body to its limits, drawing on Angel’s strength when his human reserves went into exhaustion.  Kick after kick after kick; each burning with the intensity and desire to destroy.  Devil grunted in pain and Hwoarang threw even more force into the onslaught. 

His foot burned with the force of his power as it connected with Jin’s body, sending him flying into the cracked wall.  The dark-haired man grunted as he landed, sending more dust and cement flying, though he didn’t break through.  He coughed and slouched against the stonework bracing his hands on his knees, the dust and crumbling mortar falling around him.

Hwoarang’s feet moved him forward, his fists tightening and his body leapt into the air.  He never looked away from Jin as he moved, drawing his knee in tight before kicking out.  Those white eyes locked with his, both unbelieving and welcoming as the Blood Talon drove his heel into Jin’s chest.  The dark-haired fighter slammed back against the weakened stone, breaking through the crumbling barrier as the momentum from Hwoarang’s attack carried them both through.

Devil fell to the ground with Hwoarang on top of him, snarling and cursing as they rolled about in the red flowers just outside the cathedral.  Hwoarang kicked himself away, rolling a couple times before hopping back to his feet.  He looked back to the hole they had fallen through, noting the section of wall had collapsed, blocking it off and leaving them alone in the secret garden.

Hwoarang scuffed his boot on the forgotten pathway, still seemingly manicured, despite the overgrown weeds that surrounded the outside path.  The centre still brimmed with red flowers, their crimson petals flashing brightly against the dull, green surroundings.  He smirked and closed his eyes.  He could feel Angel, her power so easy to identify amid his own familiar thoughts.  Her white energy throbbed and churned within him and he pushed it outward, surrounding himself with light and bringing Angel’s true influence out.  He could feel her change painlessly affecting him, the pressure on his back pressing outwards, the ticklish energy ghosting across his body and affecting his clothes, transforming them into protective white-leather armour.

He released his breath and opened his eyes.  Jin’s change was affecting him as well, though it wracked his body to do so.  “Fuck!”  Hwoarang rushed forward as Jin writhed about on the ground, his cries cutting through to the Blood Talon’s heart.  He glanced over to the wall one more time, satisfied that nobody could follow that way and it would take a while to find another way around.  With any luck, he could finish everything before that happened.

His wings instinctively flared out as he surveyed his lover, his white leather gauntlet creaking as he tightened his fist.  He felt sick to his stomach seeing what was happening to Jin.  He should have made his move then, knocked Jin out and disabled him as a suitable host for Devil, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. 

The darker man was gripping his head, bowing backwards as the fatal lightening wracked his frame, burning its markings across his chest.  “N-no!” Jin coughed as a terrible cracking sound rang out through the forgotten garden.  His hands fell away as those terrible horns sprang from his head and he rolled to his side, coughing amid his rasping breath as his wings also pierced his back.  Inky black feathers splayed from the avian limbs, caught up in the breeze that stirred around them as the pain subsided and Devil rose in his true form, ready to stand off against Hwoarang.

“Jin?” the red angel asked, though he already knew the truth.  He just couldn’t stop saying the name, knowing that his lover was trapped.  Locked inside his own body, a mute witness to everything that happened.  “I’ll take care of this, Kazama.  Don’t worry about it.”  He angled his body to the side and raised his fist to guard, light on the balls of his feet as he showed he was ready to go.

Devil sneered, tilting his head back and looking down his nose at the Blood Talon’s form.  His black lip curled up into a sneer and he arched forward like a bull, ready to charge.

Hwoarang eyed those sharp horns, as he flexed his wings.  The white appendages flared out and he leapt into the air, flying right at Devil while keeping those awful horns at the forefront of his mind.

The two fighters battled, trading punches and kicks to the gut.  Devil fought with cold venom.  Hwoarang’s anger drove him beyond his limits; punching and hitting even though he felt several fingers break.  When he couldn’t take the pain anymore he head butted the creature, anything to make him feel pain.  Make him feel the pain that _he_ felt at seeing Jin like that.  Anything to take him out so that he couldn’t bother Jin again. 

Devil reeled from the assault, stumbling back a few feet and holding his bloody nose.  His eyes danced wide with glee and his manic laughter rang out through the garden.  The sound was grating, like nails on a chalkboard and Hwoarang couldn’t stand to let the creature enjoy anything.  He sprang into the air again, diving towards his opponent, ready to knock him out in one kick.

Devil arched forward, ready for the Korean as he dove in and caught his arm mid-air, using it to throw him about, bouncing him off the ground.  He kicked Hwoarang in the gut for good measure before the jewel at the centre of his head began to glow brightly.

“Shit,” Hwoarang barely had time to realize what was happening as the laser blast fired out.  It hit him; scorching a mark in his white vest as it spun him around and slammed him face-first into the wall of the cathedral.  Jin was on him in an instant, his wings carrying him through the air in a powerful beat, giving him added momentum to drive his foot into Hwoarang’s back.  “F-fuck…” Devil continued to drive his foot down, stomping his back. 

White agony spread out through Hwoarang’s consciousness when he felt something crack, the pain overwhelming his senses.  Everything felt fuzzy, as if the pain was too dreamy to be real and he thought he heard Devil snarling above him.  The demon’s voice grated on a mocking laugh and caught in his throat, changed from Devil’s high tenor to Jin’s lower, more desperate pitch.  The dark-haired man hovered above him, gasping and despondent as he said things Hwoarang couldn’t quite hear.  He only knew Jin was trying to fight it.  This was his opportunity and… he couldn’t even pull himself up off the ground!

He rolled over, trying to pull himself up.  His blood was roaring past his ears, and he heard Jin telling Devil to stop.  Ordering him to fucking die as the beast’s heavy boot came down on his face.  The roaring blood seemed to fade from his ears and there was the sickening sound of his nose breaking.  His vision went black; he could hear the argument above him, slowly shifting away as Jin tried to put some distance between them.  Jin’s voice was commanding and strong before cutting off and Devil’s laughter replacing its desperate cry.  That repulsive voice sounded like it was underwater and Hwoarang felt as if he were falling into darkness.

His body was shutting down, the pain just too great, but… he shook his head.  This wasn’t a fight he could _just lose_.  He blinked, unable to see but still fighting to stay conscious.  This wasn’t like his fight with Chin, where anger fueled his desire to win.  He didn’t have the luxury of losing consciousness this time.  He just didn’t.  He couldn’t simply roll over and hope that Jin got things under control on his own.  If he lost this round, then Jin would win and go on to the final round.

The final round that would be his undoing, corruption and his destruction.

Hwoarang would never see Jin again.  Not as he knew him.  Everything would have been for nothing.  His promise to Jun, Angel’s power, Jin’s friendship and affection.  The thought of losing to Devil made him mad, but what really pissed him off was the thought of the Jin he knew and _cared_ about being destroyed.

He covered his eyes with his hand, numbly trying to rub some sight back into them.  He felt around for Angel’s power, hoping he could last, praying she was strong enough to help him stand and finish this.  He felt a shiver course through him and he forced himself to move, trying to climb to his feet, but only making it to his hands and knees.  He braced his forehead on the ground, fighting a wave of nausea that washed over him as the blood rushed out his broken nose.  Jin was standing a few feet away – he could sense him – and the Blood Talon crawled over to him.  He looked through bleary and swollen eyes at the other man, watching him struggle against that black beast.  It was as if he had tunnel vision and the one thing at the end was Jin.  Nothing else mattered.

The other man was muttering under his breath, mumbling in argument with his darker half before vehemently shaking his head ‘no’.

Hwoarang crawled forward, on his hands and knees at Jin’s feet and he sat up, grabbing Jin’s thigh with more strength than he’d anticipated.  “Jin?”  He was trembling.

Jin fell to his knees the moment the Blood Talon grabbed him.  He rocked forward, his voice cracking.  “Hwoarang?  Are you… alright?” he asked, faltering but still reaching out for his lover.

“Well, none of the important bones are broken, if that’s what you mean,” Hwoarang reached back for Jin, feeling a wave of elation to simply touch him again.  “Just my ribs and… ah, a few fingers.  How are you?”

“I won’t kill you, Hwoarang,” he said through grit teeth.  “I won’t let him make me…” he was struggling, staring blankly into space.

Hwoarang pulled him in tightly, wincing as his ribs protested but the pain didn’t matter right then.  He could feel the dark aura spreading out, sense Jin’s own power surging forward to meet it, like waves warring on the sea during a storm.  He drew his wings forward, wrapping around Jin and holding him close.

“He’s… stronger than before,” Jin moaned, his white eyes staring blankly at Hwoarang.  “Even against my father he wasn’t so strong… something else is here… something powerful.”

“Yeah, I heard about that…” Hwoarang tightened his grip around him, tasting blood in the back of his throat.  In the distance, he could hear the faint banging of someone trying to break through the debris.  Their time was running out.

“It’s the same force that I could feel after the last tournament… something has awakened and wants him… me… it’s so fucking strong, b-but I won’t let him kill you!”

Hwoarang bowed his head and pressed his cheek to Jin’s, unsure of what he should do.  Could he use Angel’s powers to heal, and was she even strong enough to help him at that point?  He squeezed Jin tightly, sensing Angel’s waning strength as she tried to mend his broken ribs.  Was he strong enough to reach inside Jin and wade through Devil’s nightmares, or would the act drown them both?

“Hwoarang…” Jin coughed, tightening his grip on the redhead’s shoulders.  “Please, I need you to knock me out.  Hurt me so much that my body is too damaged for him to use!”

The Blood Talon shook his head.  H-how could he?!

“No… you have to help,” Jin sobbed and the sound cut right through Hwoarang.  “It’s the only way to keep him from really getting out this time.  From using me…”

“I’m not going to hospitalize you do to it, Jin!”  Hwoarang cradled Jin’s head even as he felt his heart sinking.  “No, there’s gotta be some other way… anything…”

“Hwoarang… it is the _only_ way,” Jin pushed away from him, falling back on his heels and looking straight at him.  “I need you to do this, Hwoarang.  I need you… please…” his lip curled upwards as his eyes went wide and vacant and his voice died on his lips.

Hwoarang sprang to his feet with strength he didn’t know he had.  He knew what he had to do, even as it ripped him apart to do it.  He closed his eyes and bit his tongue, damning himself as he lashed out with the most vicious attacks he could conceive.  He grabbed Jin’s body, intending to break him – and himself – as he held him fast and kicked him square in the ribs.  The other man struggled somewhat, blocking one or two kicks, though Hwoarang couldn’t stop moving.  Wouldn’t stop himself from slamming Jin down, from overwhelming him with an incredible barrage of kicks that sent him flying against the outer cathedral wall. 

Jin flew backwards, smashing into the wall, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.  Hwoarang watched, bracing his hands against his knees to catch his breath.  There were bits of light dancing in the corner of his eyes, beckoning him into unconsciousness.  Still, the only thing he saw was Jin, his dark-haired lover sagging against the wall, his body torn and bleeding, arm broken and hanging at a painful angle.  The Blood Talon forced his legs to move him forward, carrying him to his lover’s side just as Jin collapsed into his arms.  Hwoarang sighed, his throat constricting around the noise as he sank to his knees while cradling the other man.  His body screamed in agony, but his heart was the worst for it and he couldn’t understand why it ached so badly.  “Jin…”

He pulled the dark-haired man against him, feeling a wash of electricity flare over his skin and the soft, black wings evaporated in the wave of crackling, purple energy.  He pressed his cheek to Jin’s bloody face, listening to his breathing and knowing that Devil was really and truly unable to use him to kill.  He wouldn’t be able to use Jin to do anything.  Hwoarang bowed his head, feeling something wet at the edges of his eyes.  He felt his own angelic power flicker across his skin, his own garments and wings fading away as his vision went grey.

He was dimly aware of a loud banging noise and then the urgent buzz of voices as people rushed in around them.  There were hands on him, trying to pry him away from Jin, but he wouldn’t let go.  He was in far too deep and the last thing he’d do was let go of Jin.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwoarang recovers from his injuries and wakes up completely alone. His friends are strangely absent and nobody will tell him what happened to Jin. There is only one opponent standing between the Blood Talon and victory, and in order to destroy the evil giving Devil an unfair advantage, he will do whatever it takes to beat Jinpachi.

_“Thank you, Hwoarang. Thank you for this. You can’t imagine what that did to me, but you’ve kept Jin from reaching the final stage, and the evil that would destroy him. I’m in your debt and I can’t conceive of anything that would equal what you’ve done for me. For everything. I’m sorry I forced you into this situation… though I’m happy to think you’re not completely unhappy with how things turned out._

 _“Angel has done what she can to heal you and I’ll lend my strength where I can for the next match. Jinpachi… can be very difficult. Be careful…”_

+++

The buzzing noise of fluorescent lights was unnatural and disturbing. Hwoarang cracked an eye open and glanced at his surroundings. Where the hell was he? The Blood Talon instinctively reached out for Jin, seeking to protect him like in the garden, but… this wasn’t the forgotten garden behind the cathedral. Where he hell…? Hwoarang eyed his surroundings again, a sick feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Why wasn’t he hurt? He flexed his hands, inspecting the fingers he was certain he’d broken in his fight with Jin. He looked around the room. Where were his friends? Where was _anybody_ for that matter? He could understand why Baek wouldn’t be there, but he couldn’t imagine Doyon _not_ muscling his way through security to get to him.

The room reminded him of the medical rooms back with the military; all sterile and neutral. He sat up and immediately regretted it. His bones might have mended, but the headache that hit him was something else. “Oh, fuck…” he moaned and lied back down on the medical cot, cradling his head.

Through the pain, he was aware of someone opening the door, stepping inside and shutting it behind them with an audible click. The Blood Talon tried rolling over to get a glimpse of the stranger. “Who the hell are you?” he grated, closing one eye in pain and trying to glare at him through the other.

The man approached him, wordlessly reaching out to grasp his wrist and feel his pulse. Hwoarang grunted and tried to focus on his clothing, noticing the red cross indicating he was some sort of medical staff, as well as the Zaibatsu logo, indicating he was in no way to be trusted. “Where the hell is Jin?”

The man ignored him, which only pissed him off more. “Listen, asshole, tell me where Jin is, or I’m going to go _find_ him!” He frowned when the man seemed to give little reaction, barely even acknowledging him at all as he withdrew a penlight from his pocket and shone it in his eyes.

“Ow, fuck! I’ve got a headache, asshole!”

“I don’t doubt it,” the man finally spoke. “And if that’s all you have, then I can declare you fit to continue to the final round.” He clicked the penlight off and tucked it into his pocket before turning to leave.

“W-wait, you haven’t told me where Jin is, yet,” Hwoarang forced his legs over the edge of the cot and sprang forward. He felt a bit woozy, but it was easy to ignore discomfort like that when he was being jerked around. “Where _is_ he?”

The doctor startled when the redhead grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. As if on cue, the door opened and two Zaibatsu soldiers rushed in, their guns already aimed at the Blood Talon. The doctor wrenched his shoulder free, “I’m afraid I don’t know that much. I only know that you have a new opponent to fight, and that you’re healthy enough to do so. If you win…” he bowed his head and adjusted his glasses. “ _If_ you win, I suppose you can see whoever you like.”

“Dick…” Hwoarang glared at the soldiers and folded his arms over his chest. “Fine, I’ll finish this fucking tournament…” The guards moved; one behind him and one in front and together they led him into the hallway and towards an exit. The hallway was dark and smelled musty without many doors on either side. It felt as if they were underground, and he guessed they were probably somewhere beneath where the King of Iron Fist Tournament was held. He eyed the guards from the corners of his eyes, trying to hatch a plan to escape to find Jin.

“ _Getting shot won’t help him, you know._ ”

‘ _Thanks for the advice, now leave me alone. I don’t trust these assholes to take me to any place other than my grave._ ’ he grunted, slowing his pace and getting ready to make his move. ‘ _Besides, you guys recruited me for Jin and there’s no way I’m going to leave without him._ ’

“ _Maybe you’re right,_ ” Angel sighed in a way that rubbed him the wrong way. “ _You probably couldn’t last against Jinpachi for longer than… half a round. Tops._ ”

Hwoarang ground his teeth as he rolled his eyes, trying to look into his own head to glare at her. ‘ _I know what you’re doing. It’s not about me or my ego… even though I’m one-hundred per cent positive that I could beat that guy’s ass! Jin is just more important..._ ’

“ _Goddamnit, Hwoarang. Jin is fine, alright?_ ” he could imagine Angel throwing up her arms in frustration. “ _Yon is taking care of him and **I’m** one-hundred per cent positive that you will die if you try to escape these two assholes and rush to his side._ ”

Hwoarang frowned, he wasn’t _rushing_ to Jin’s side, he just wanted to make sure he was alright... ‘ _Are you sure that Yon’s got him?_ ’ If the doctor was watching over Jin at that moment… Angel didn’t answer and he grumbled, realizing that she’d won the argument. They reached a door at the end of the hallway and stepped outside to a waiting helicopter – so much for his instincts thinking he was underground.

“ _Your broken fingers have healed,_ ” Angel observed when he cracked his knuckles and crossed the asphalt. “ _But don’t forget you’re not completely healed yet. I know it’s probably pointless for me to say this, but try not to let yourself get too roughed up, eh? I‘m so utterly exhausted from fixing you up so quickly, I don’t think I could stitch together another bone._ ”

‘ _Well, I was going to let him think he’s winning for the first round or two, just to come back and kick his ass completely._ ’

“ _A hustler’s strategy won’t work for this man, Hwoarang. Give it all you’ve got and call on me if you get in trouble. If it drags on for too long…_ ”

‘ _Yeah, yeah, beat his ass. I got it already,_ ’ Hwoarang grumbled. He had no idea where the next stage would be, but he knew it would be fucked up, wherever it was. The helicopter blades were already spinning and he felt the barrel of the gun pressed to his back, pushing him forward and into the aircraft. “Where the fuck are you taking me?” he bellowed as he took his seat.

“Final stage,” the one soldier climbed in and sat opposite, still pointing the gun at him.

“What’s with the fancy transport? Isn’t it just being held in another arena?” Hwoarang looked out the window as the helicopter lifted off the ground, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.

The soldier seemed to relax a bit once they were in the air. “This is a _private_ match,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall. “We will retrieve the winner from the location after the match has completed,” he said. “After watching from a safe distance,” he added with a knowing smirk that pissed Hwoarang off.

Well, it sounded like these guys were scared or some shit like that. Hwoarang cracked his knuckles again, whatever. Everyone was shitting themselves over his fight with this guy, when all Jinpachi was was another opponent. He couldn’t be tougher than Jin, and Jin was the only opponent that mattered.

+++

Hwoarang stumbled as the soldier shoved him out of the helicopter before it took off. “Damnit,” he coughed as the dust flared up around him, leaving him alone in… the middle of nowhere.

“What is this crap?” he looked around, seeing nothing for miles. It was as if the land had been stripped by fire or something, leaving nothing but smoking hills of dirt and rock.

“ _He’s somewhere around here…_ ” Angel sounded on edge, which didn’t leave him feeling any better.

The Blood Talon walked a few steps, his senses trained to listen for anything that sounded like his opponent. Hell, he didn’t even know what this Jinpachi guy looked like, or what to expect with his moves. Hwoarang continued walking, past the smouldering rock faces, remnants of a burnt out forest.

“ _Damnit, this isn’t good. He’s so powerful. No wonder Jin lost control after the last tournament… I think I wanna throw up._ ”

“Well, don’t do it in there!” Hwoarang tensed at her threat. “Anyway, so all I have to do is kill this guy and Jin will be fine?” He looked around, trying to see anything that looked like a fighting ring. “Damnit, where the hell am I supposed to meet him?”

“I’m impressed that you’ve made it this far,” a voice boomed out from behind him and Hwoarang spun around, ready to fight. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the sight of this man who seemed so old he was in danger of becoming a fossil. His skin was dark, almost bronzed, as if he’d spent years under the sun or living in fire. He was also tall and built like a brick shithouse, with only some thick metal bands around his forearms and a flimsy rust and gold coloured wrap around his waist. He kinda reminded the Korean of Heihachi, only much, much older looking.

“I am Jinpachi Mishima,” he continued, and everything seemed to click into place.

“Shit, you’re _related_ to Jin?!” Hwoarang balled his fists, feeling his anger bubbling within him. He could barely contain himself; this man was just radiating an awful power that immediately put him on edge.

He hated being on edge.

It felt like he was on the defensive and it pissed him off. “I don’t care how old you are or what your game is, grandpa. I just came here to kick the piss outta ya and even the playing field for Jin and that asshole inside his head.”

The old man seemed to pause in his entrance speech, cocking his head to regard Hwoarang with passing interest. “You have the smell of purity on you…” he sniffed the air and frowned, giving him an appraising look. “Heh, you’ve _borrowed_ that power, but you are neither worthy of it, nor likely to uphold its essence. Ch, I can already sense your corruption staining the white angel red… still,” he tilted his head back, as if realizing something amusing. “Your corruption breeds fire, and flame destroys.” He arched his back and spread his arms, licks of black and purple energy seemed to emanate from him and Hwoarang backed up. This was too fucking weird.

“With your power,” he declared, “I will destroy all existence!” His voice changed, splitting and fracturing into many voices rumbling together. His torso seemed to tense up as he arched backwards and the muscles in his stomach shifted beneath the skin.

“…fuck…” Hwoarang averted his eyes, wishing he’d covered his ears as he heard what he knew was the older man’s torso ripping itself apart. He stole a glance and felt his stomach leap up into his throat at the sight of the wide opening in Jinpachi’s abdomen, gleaming with sharp, fiendish teeth that clacked together as the demon’s mouth seemed to smile.

Hwoarang nearly fell to his knees as the surge of Jinpachi’s power washed over him. It was everywhere, in the air, weighing down on him, wrenching his stomach into knots. “Is… is this fucking _happening_?”

“ _Get the fuck out of the way!_ ” Angel screamed in his mind as Jinpachi bowed forward, shielding a sudden spike in power.

“Wha- fuck!” Hwoarang dove to the side, rolling and rolling until he stopped, looking back in time to see the fireball that burst from the demon stomach. “How… how the hell did he _do_ that?!” his mind was still reeling but his body fell into action, hopping back to his feet and lightly side-stepping a couple more firey blasts.

“ _I **told** you,_ Angel almost laughed. “ _But you just got all cocky like you always do. I swear, if I-_ ”

“Can it, will ya?!” Hwoarang hissed and tried to guess at what strategy would help him avoid dying. At least, right away. He narrowed his eyes and tried moving in close, ready to step out of the way of another fireball. He kicked out and backed up, trying to keep on the move and avoid being hit, but the elder Mishima was ready for him and snapped out with a stomping-attack that broke the ground beneath his foot. The impact sent shards of rock flying into Hwoarang’s face, knocking him back.

The Blood Talon cursed as he backed away again, putting plenty of space between them; he just couldn’t get close to the guy, and he didn’t have any ranged attacks. Even from that distance, he could feel the power radiating off Jinpachi and with a smirk, he decided it was time to take the gloves off and go all out. He closed his eyes, a wash of white energy tinged with his own red anger flared behind his vision and spread outward. He felt like he was on a rollercoaster as he called on the power within him and projected it outward to curl with eager flames along his arms and back. His wings were anxious to be free, to break out from his shoulder blades and unfurl behind him, catching the wind that filtered through that burned and empty terrain. It was strange how comfortable he was with the change; the sudden weight on his back and the feeling of fire spreading over him, engulfing his dobuk and replacing it with more angelic attire.

He felt everything fall into place, his power screaming around him and he flicked his eyes open, sizing up his opponent’s reaction. “Prepare to lose, gramps,” he lifted his wings and flapped them down in a powerful movement that propelled him towards Jinpachi at incredible speed.

His first attack was perfect; driving towards the older man, his fists aimed right for his head, and yet, Jinpachi didn’t seem concerned. Not even _surprised_ that Hwoarang was flying at him. He simply reached up and caught the redhead’s fists before they could connect, twisting the angelic man about mid-air.

Hwoarang flailed about as his momentum propelled his body over Jinpachi’s towering frame, only his fists remained locked in that powerful grip as his wings flapped, trying to compensate.

“You’re too eager to die, boy,” Jinpachi tightened his grip, nearly crushing Hwoarang’s fists.

“Fuckdamnit!” Hwoarang flapped his wings again and brought his foot around, kicking Jinpachi in the back of the head with his steel-capped boot.

The action would have killed a normal man, but only seemed to jar the elder Mishima into releasing his grip.

Hwoarang dropped to the ground, flexing his hands to check for any damage. He crouched low, spreading his wings out for balance as he looked up at the older man towering above him. Angel seemed to waver in his mind.

“ _We’ve got to beat him faster than this, Hwoarang,_ ” she urged him. “ _I used up so much strength against Jin – and healing you – and… ugh, I still feel so damn sick. I can’t keep this form for too long…_ ”

“Hey,” Hwoarang said, grinning up at his opponent as he spoke to the angel in his mind. “Trust me, eh? I can keep it up, and I _will_ beat this asshole.” He rolled to the side just as Jinpachi lifted his foot again and slammed it down, breaking the ground in front of him. His back was exposed and the Korean didn’t waste any time in slipping around behind him and kicking him in the ass, launching him into the air.

For all the older man’s devastating attacks, Hwoarang bet that he couldn’t fly. Hell, Jinpachi couldn’t even right himself as he flew up behind him. The Blood Talon drove his steel-capped boot into the older man’s chest and then his ass as he spun out of control. Anything to get him higher above the smoking ground where he seemed most powerful.

The elder Mishima tumbled about, helplessly cursing, trying to grab at any part of Hwoarang that was unfortunate enough to get too close. The Korean kept his powerful wings out of the way, repeatedly flipping around in fancy displays of his aerial prowess, lifting them both high in the air, reaching just beneath the smoky clouds. Jinpachi lashed out with a kick aimed for the red angel’s head, but Hwoarang simply veered out of the way, letting the older man miss and tumble through the air.

Hwoarang looked higher, seeing the faint image of the moon high above them; misty blue and purple coloured by the atmosphere that separated them. He remembered the times in Korea when he had flown above the city, soaring high until all he could see beneath him was darkness and pinpricks of light from the cities and towns. He felt a wicked smile creep up into his face, heard Angel laugh within him and he tucked his wings against his back, free-falling down to where Jinpachi was plummeting to the earth. The old man sure as hell couldn’t fly, but Hwoarang decided to help him fall a bit harder. He dove beneath the older man and snapped his wings out, catching himself mid-air and used the momentum to whip his foot around and drive into Jinpachi’s gut. He swore he felt a few teeth break off the gaping demon mouth as he sent the old man screaming down towards the ground at a blistering speed.

Hwoarang folded his wings tightly to his back and dove again, watching the ground rise up on him quickly. The ground that exploded into a wave of dust and broken rock as Jinpachi smashed into the surface ahead of him, sending the rock buckling up around the crater. The Korean dove through the cloud of dust, gritting his teeth as he forced his wings to snap out, reducing his speed a fraction as he slammed feet-first into the body in the middle of the depression in the rocky earth.

+

“Oh, fuck,” Hwoarang groaned as he climbed to his feet, shakily taking a few steps before sinking to his knees. His body shook with the trauma of landing too hard and he wrapped his arms around his chest as he looked back to the crater. There was no way the older man would be able to do anything more than attend his own funeral. “Well, that’s it, then…” Hwoarang groaned and wondered when the helicopter would know to come back for him.

“Ngh, don’t be presumptuous,” a weathered voice ground out behind him. “I will take that corrupted power from you…”

Hwoarang spun around in a flash, seeing Jinpachi bracing himself on his knees and breathing heavily. His white hair stood up, angled from his beard and along his temples like horns. His body quaked with the effort to stand. “Are you still alive?” Hwoarang asked, somewhat amused. “Well, whatever! That was just round one, old man, and one more will finish the job!” He thumbed his nose and bounced on the balls of his feet, ready for whatever Jinpachi threw at him; the other man could barely stand, there was no way he could do anything except fall down.

Hwoarang, on the other hand, felt strong despite the ache that spread through his body. He flexed his wings behind him, feeling the tight, white leather that clung to his body like a second skin. The leather gauntlets creaked as he clenched his fists, ready to move in for the kill. Everything was perfect. Everything would be over soon; he could get the hell out of there, collect whatever prize was at the end of this rainbow, and find Jin. His victory over Jinpachi was a sure thing.

Definite.

“You don’t look so hot, there, gramps,” he approached Jinpachi, leaning down to get right in the older man’s face. The older man who’d fucked Jin up so badly just by being alive. Damnit. “This’ll be quick…” he drew back and raised his leg high in the air, ready to bring it down. “I promi-!” his words were knocked out of him as Jinpachi suddenly moved into action, kicking his foot out from under him and sending him crashing to the ground.

“As I said, you were being presumptuous,” Jinpachi climbed to his feet with greater ease and kicked Hwoarang in the side, sending him flying onto his stomach. Without another word, the old man planted his foot in the centre of the Blood Talon’s back, earning a pained grunt.

Hwoarang tried to push himself up, but the older man was far too heavy to lift. He tried wrenching his neck around as a cold terror gripped his heart, freezing him where he lay as Jinpachi took hold of his wing.

He could feel the older man’s fingers pressing into the feathers, roughly grinding down through the skin and into the hollow bones, testing... threatening. “No! Don’t you dar-!”

Whatever threat Hwoarang had been thinking left his mind. Any notion of retaliation or escape was blotted out as ineffable pain spread through his conscious. It was like drowning in fire, worse than anything he’d felt before and his voice became an unintelligible, unending scream. He might have been bowing backwards. Maybe pounding the ground with his fist. Could have been doing anything to make Jinpachi stop, but everything was a frantic blur. Everything was pain.

That agony multiplied as Angel’s consciousness exploded within him and her cry matched his. The grinding torture spreading across his back was nearly blinding. Overwhelming, with only the sound of crunching bone and tearing flesh ringing in his ears.

He writhed beneath Jinpachi’s heavy foot, the trauma giving him added strength, the terror driving him to escape as he felt the old man bend down to grab at his other wing. “MOTHERFUCKER!” he screamed finally twisting his hips and working his way free. The older man held fast to his remaining wing. Bones snapping between his fingers and he wrenched the feathery appendage upwards. Fingers dug in, his grip tightening as Hwoarang kicked back with all his force to snap Jinpachi’s knee and break his hold.

The Blood Talon scrambled to get out of grabbing-range, eyes wide and lungs gasping for breath. Broken. He didn’t have to reach back to feel his wing was fucking _broken_. Still, his fingers crept over his shoulder, first hitting the stump of his missing wing and he wanted to cry, shaking when he drew his hands back to see the blood. His breathing increased as he sought out the one feathery appendage that remained. He ran his fingers along the outside bone, feeling his stomach clench when it bent away at a strange angle, and then again further down. His trembling fingers traced over patches of bare skin where the feathers had been torn out. It hung so limp and awkwardly behind him, he grit his teeth and choked back a sneer. “You asshole… you goddamn _asshole_!” he could feel his face burning, tears streaming down his cheeks as he glared burning daggers at the other man.

He bit his tongue as he watched Jinpachi, making sure the old man didn’t get any closer while he tried to find Angel within him. She felt fragmented, unfocused and unstable. She couldn’t say anything, though the agony she endured was strong and present as she tried to cope with having a piece of her being ripped away like that. He closed his eyes, trying to call out to her, but soon realized that she couldn’t help him anymore. He was on his own. Shit.

He opened his eyes in time to see Jinpachi rushing up on him, fists driving right for his head. He ducked to the side, narrowly missing the attack and spun around to face the elder Mishima again, this time at close proximity. The demonic mouth grinned at him and Jinpachi bore down with overwhelming power.

Hwoarang felt sick. His vision wavered and he had to fight to stay conscious.

Jinpachi was going to win.

The redhead cursed and swang wildly towards the older man, realizing too late his mistake and those grinning teeth clamped down on his arm. He looked up into Jinpachi’s face, his amber eyes going wide and he saw the victory dancing in those old, wicked eyes.

Jinpachi was going to win because angel was gone.

The mouth ground into his forearm, spilling blood and holding him steady for Jinpachi to stomp again. The older man’s foot broke down into him again, slamming him against the rock.

Hwoarang didn’t have a chance without her. “You…” he coughed. Shit, he couldn’t even _think_ of a threat, let alone spit one out.

The dust rose around him and he could feel the ground breaking around him, burying him in the fragmented rock. The older man slammed his foot down again. Hwoarang dug his fingers into the broken stone. He was really going to fail! He could hazily hear the other man above him saying something, but he couldn’t pull himself up. “Jinpa…” he felt the other man’s foot connect with the back of his head. “Ji…n…?” he coughed on the dust, tasting blood. Everything was blood and dust and a stale smell in his nose, but something stuck out for him then.

“Jin,” he repeated it, snorting and spitting again. Angel said he’d lose, but the only person who’s opinion mattered was… He climbed to his hands and knees, arching his back and forcing his body to move. Jinpachi’s foot came down again and he tensed, taking the hit in his back and staying up.

He never needed Angel’s power to beat Jin.

The Blood Talon launched himself to the side, using the momentum to roll to his feet and spin around to glare at Jinpachi. Gravity beckoned him downward, his pain beckoned him into unconsciousness, but he ignored the invitations and shifted his feet, standing his ground as he raised his fists to show he wasn’t finished.

He sighed heavily, his amber eyes shifting from Jinpachi to the white wing that lay discarded on the ground. The pristine feathers were stained with blood; red down stuck together in sanguinary clumps, some flying free in the hot wind that gushed around them. The colour was angry against the bleached feathers and something snapped within Hwoarang. His breathing shifted, becoming ragged as he clenched his jaw, his mouth turning up into a sneer.

“I don’t know how you can stand, boy, but you should accept the fact that you’re mine…” Jinpachi said matter-of-factly as he clapped his hands and moved towards Hwoarang. His pace was leisurely, confident, arrogant.

Hwoarang coughed, sputtering on the taste of blood and spat on the ground, feeling his entire body weighed down. Angel’s screams were lost in the roar behind his ears, his own pain seemed greater than hers did, but there was the ache in his chest that seemed to leave them all behind. Physical pain didn’t seem to matter when he thought of Jin.

Nothing really mattered more than beating the piss outta this fossil and returning to Jin.

Hwoarang laughed, his face hurt as he cracked a smile. The thought was so domestic and unlike him, but he couldn’t help want he wanted. Even before Jun had approached him, it seemed like his entire life had been focused on Jin. The crap that happened between fights – military bullshit and killing time street fighting – was just that, killing time until he could get to that dark-haired man that was both infuriating and endearing at the same time. The man who’d shown him a sliver of his life in Yakushima, and who seemed to accept Hwoarang’s life when it came knocking on their hotel room door. His life had been one big fight which seemed to culminate in his bouts with Jin. His life was nothing but a series of events leading up to Jin. Even Angel’s little trials and training was another event. She’d convinced him that he couldn’t do this without her. Need her? Shit, to do what? Hwoarang didn’t want anybody hanging over his back when he was with Jin. He didn’t need Jun lecturing him, or Angel teasing or making little comments. While the added help they offered was useful, he’d only ever relied on one power to get him through life; his.

Jinpachi’s presence bore down on him, and Hwoarang dropped to one knee. “Damnit… guess I’ve gotta do the rest of this on my own, eh?” He looked back at his opponent, eyeing the near-demonic aura about him as the older man shifted, moving in for the kill.

Hwoarang sneered, waiting for Jinpachi to get close.

The ancient fighter moved swiftly across the broken rock and smoking ground.

Closer.

He walked with a staggered gait. A pace that matched the beat of Hwoarang’s heart and the Blood Talon’s vision shifted to red.

 _Closer!_

He got nearer and nearer, the Korean couldn’t wait any longer and he forced his legs to move. Forced them to lift him up and into the air and then kick out to kick Jinpachi in the face.

The impact knocked the older man backwards and Hwoarang pressed his advantage, swinging about mid-air and knocking his opponent back with the other foot. It all happened so quickly, and yet, the time he was airborne seemed to last an eternity. His body was moving on instinct alone. Carrying him through a move he’d practiced for hours on end to perfect. He seemed to dance through the air, switching back from left to right foot in the brutal combination of the Hunting Hawk. He never once touched the ground, throwing his entire weight into the move as his steel-capped boots struck out at his opponent’s head.

He felt a satisfying crack resonate with his last kick and he left Jinpachi to fall back against a rock face. The older man slammed into the stone, sending blood flying as the Blood Talon landed a little more gracefully on the ground. The redhead’s legs gave out on him and he sank to his knees before falling forward on his hands and coughing violently. Spatters of blood appeared on the rock before him and he thought he’d choke.

It took a few moments before the Blood Talon found his breath again and he raised his head to see where Jinpachi had landed. The elder Mishima lay in a pile of rubble, dust and ash falling about his still form and he stared out at Hwoarang through wild, unseeing eyes. Still eyes.

Dead eyes.

“H-ha… h…” Hwoarang sputtered, climbing to his feet. “I… w..in…” he shook his head as he thought he heard the whirling blades of the approaching helicopter. The wind shifted about him and there was a strange scent in his nose. Strange and familiar and sickening in his head. “The hell…?” he inhaled, feeling a sharp pain by his temple. He touched his ear, noticing the glistening red that coated his fingers. “Ohhh… tha..t no good…” he whispered as he felt his vision shift to black and gravity beckoned him down. “fu… ck…”


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun's cry for help brought them together, and now that the danger has past, there is nothing that could keep them apart.  They have a whole lifetime ahead of them and actions speak louder than words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   The last chapter (with the exception of the Epilogue, which will flesh out a few things after this.)  If I hadn't mentioned it already, I have an aversion to the words "I love you".  I don't like saying them irl, and it bothers me to see characters say them.  I read a few books on writing that outlines the art of _show don't tell_.  I decided to have Hwo and Jin show that they love each other.  (Let me know what you think, if you have a mind to.)

The landscape was empty and nondescript.  His mind was white.  White and blank, and while Jun didn’t mind the peaceful surroundings, she did find it a bit disconcerting when she considered it was _Hwoarang’s_ mind she was in.  She looked down to the man curled up beside her, his head resting comfortably in her lap as he remained in an unconscious stupor.  She absently brushed her fingers through his red hair, mulling over the events that had happened up to that point.  She really did owe him more than she could ever give.  She had never expected him to go so far for her son, to put himself in such danger to defeat Jinpachi.

“I kinda don’t wanna leave…”

The statement drew Jun’s attention away from her charge.  Her gaze darted over the stark, empty landscape to the angel draped over the unidentifiable ground.  Her usually pristine wings had greyed somewhat and she could barely lift her head to address Jun properly.  Her chest heaved deeply; catching every breath, she could to continue speaking.

“Don’t tell him, but I think he’s earned something from us, Jun… and I hate seeing his mind so empty, compared to before…”

“How are you doing?” Jun asked when it seemed the angel had trailed off.  Between Angel and Hwoarang, Jun had been more concerned for her guardian spirit.  Jinpachi had been vicious in his attacks that had ripped off Hwoarang’s wing.  The shock had torn through Angel’s being, slamming her and Jun off to the side and effectively taking them out of the game.  The elder Mishima knew exactly what he had been doing, trying to remove any help that might give Hwoarang a chance to win.  She had to admit she was not surprised when Hwoarang managed to win on his own, regardless of the staggering odds.

“I’ll live,” Angel sighed, resting her arm across her forehead.  “I… really need a break, though.  I’ve been stuck in this kid’s head for too long…” she reached up to the sky, seeming to watch her hand against the white background.  “I’ve used everything I have left to heal him and he’s still like this, it pisses me off!”

“It’s fine,” Jun said, stroking Hwoarang’s red mane again.  “They’ll be fine.”  She was glad she chose him, and even happier that Jin chose him as well.  Her son had grown up and was making his own decisions.  She was glad Hwoarang would stick with him now that he had leveled the playing field between Jin and Devil.  She did not doubt that the dark force within her son would try to gain control again.  She counted on it, but at least it would be an even match; no external forces or influences egging Devil on and beating Jin down.

She could not hold back a smile.  Hwoarang wouldn’t take shit from anybody trying to manipulate Jin and use him for their own purpose.

She loved her son dearly, but knew he was too trusting.  Despite how often he had been deceived in the past, he was still given to trusting the wrong person and being betrayed all over again.  Hwoarang was a great compliment to him, and Jin seemed to bring out something good in the Korean as well.  She could not put her finger on it, but he seemed… different.  Changed from the man she had first laid eyes on in the Korean military base.

“I know you like to just think they’ll be fine, but he’s been like this for the past three days, and I can’t do anything else for him.  Hell, I haven’t even looked in on Jin to see how he’s doing.  He was pretty banged up last I saw… not as bad as what that old bastard did to ‘Rang, though.”  Angel sighed heavily, moaning as she tried to roll over.  Her wings shuddered, a few silvery feathers falling to the ground.  “I don’t wanna leave just yet…”

Jun nodded and thoughtfully brushed her fingers along Hwoarang’s cheek.  The landscape held nothing of note, and yet it felt like it was shifting.  There were glimmers of colour that teased on the horizon, threatening to put some attitude and upheaval into that void in the Blood Talon’s head.  Things were healing slower than she would have liked, but after the injuries he had sustained, it was a miracle they had been able to save him at all.

+++

Jin stepped gingerly along the trail through the forest.  He was always careful not to tread outside the worn path from his cabin along the way to the waterfall he used for meditation.  The leaves seemed green, more vibrant than they should have been and he vaguely thought of how colours always looked stronger in his dreams.

He stepped carefully, feeling his back tighten at the crunching noises that followed.  He did not turn back; it was pointless.  He could not see the person who followed, not clearly, but it was the knowledge that mattered.  Knowing they were there for him, even if he could not see.  The presence followed him, widening the path to his waterfall, making it big enough for two.

Everything was very misty and dreamy.  He thought he heard the sound of a monkey cackling overhead and he was sure the presence bristled at the sound.  The spray of the water hung in the air, shimmering with the colours of a rainbow in the morning sunlight; this place always made him feel at ease.

That person was red, passionate, and strong.  They were not supporting him, but he drew comfort in their presence, though they did not follow when he dove into the water.  That was fine.  His clothes weighed down by the liquid and he dove deep, leaving the surface world behind. 

He pushed himself deeper into the pond that seemed to go on forever.  The water changed, leaving the light, airy blues behind him as he ventured deeper to some glimmer that beckoned him.  A purple light tinged the indigo water with an electric hue, emanating from a place deeper still and Jin kicked his legs.  His goal was down there, he had to visit something and it was not until he landed on the bottom of the pond that he came face to face with his darker half.

The creature’s lip curled up in disgust, but this time it had nothing to say as it stared out from its cage.

Jin said nothing either, watching Devil through the golden bars of the prison, buried so deep beneath the calm water of his mind. 

After their fight against Hwoarang, the inner battle had started between Devil and Jin.  The black beast had fought with venomous drive, his strength tripled as the external influence still throbbed in the outside world, giving him power. 

Jin had risen to match him blow for blow, and when his strength would have given out, he still found the will to continue fighting.  He felt that presence, still waiting for him at the waterfall, and he knew he was not alone.  Even if Hwoarang was not physically there for him, he still drew strength from the Blood Talon and everything he felt for him.

Devil’s surprise had been gratifying as the first pillars of the cage had appeared.  Jin could not explain the feeling that washed over him when he thought of Hwoarang.  It was as if his chest hurt, but it was such a comforting and delicious hurt it made his face crack into a smile.  It was like a fountain of energy that welled within him and he slammed the cage around his black beast with immeasurable satisfaction.

He now regarded Devil.  The creature that wore his face, twisted and feared, was as a caged beast lost beneath a mountain.  He might escape, as he had before, but Jin knew without a doubt that he would be ready for him.

He eyed the cage, the gold glinting in the murky depths.  The vibrant purple energy followed Devil in a hazy aura as he paced within his cell, bracing against the bars and shrieking as the gold burned him. 

Jin watched his doppelganger with reserved elation; things would probably never be over between them.  However, at that moment he felt more hopeful about the future, more than he ever had ever before.

He said no word as he turned to swim back to the surface, eager to meditate beneath his waterfall and focus on healing his physical body.  For the first time in his life his future revolved around something other than Devil or his cursed bloodline.  It was only about him, and his worth as a man.  Hwoarang’s presence reminded Jin that he _did_ matter and there was the possibility of a normal life for the both of them.

The only things standing before them were time and fate.

+++

“I’m tellin’ ya, man.  He’s _gonna_ wake up tonight.”  Doyon’s voice.

“You said that last night and the night before.”  Moon sounded irritated and tired.

“He’s in a coma.”  That was definitely Baek.  “I hope he recovers, but the doctors say he won’t come around for a few more weeks.  I don’t see the point in sitting around…”  Damnit, he had never heard Baek’s voice waver like that.  Hwoarang felt a part of himself swell with importance.

“Trust me.”  Yon sounded close.  “I want to be here when he wakes up.”

Hwoarang listened to her move around his bed, feeling a bit too comfortable to let them know he was semi-awake.

“What’s the matter?” Yon asked again.  “This is just like the last time he was in a coma after that incident with Chin, only we don’t know what did this to him.”

“I’m worried,” Baek’s voice was low, deep in thought.  “I keep remembering something.  They didn’t find the body of Hwoarang’s final opponent, what if it was the monster that attacked me a few years back, that ‘God of Fighting’?”

“The fact that the man’s alive should tell ya that _whatever_ it was, it lost!”  It sounded as if Doyon had leapt to his feet, or was trying to use volume to convince everyone.  “Hwoarang probably kicked its ass so bad it exploded into dust.  Whatever, man.  He won the damn tournament so let’s be happy we’re friends with a multi-millionaire, now, eh?” 

Hwoarang lied there in a daze, his body still sleeping and resistant to moving.  His mind felt fuzzy, but the news sobered him a little.  He had… won?  He felt his ego swell at that knowledge.  He wanted to run to find Jin and tell him the news, and then he felt his stomach twist into knots.  Where was Jin? 

“Would you shut the fuck _up_?” Moon hissed.  “I know you’re all happy and shit, but goddamnit, it’s one o’clock in the morning and Sun’s sleeping right here.  Let’s just sit and wait for Hwoarang to wake up like last night and the night before, okay?”  Her voice dripped sarcasm that could have melted like acid.

The room went quiet for a bit after that and Hwoarang listened to the rhythmic beeping of some heart monitor machine, raising his eyebrows to feel the bandages over his head.  His body felt so warm and fuzzy, but he was still able to crack an eye open to look at the people gathered by the side of his bed.

The room was larger than the one he had stayed in, with couches and a big screen TV that hung on the wall in front of him. He looked down at his bed, noticing that it was practically a queen-sized mattress.  He felt the bandages crinkle as he flexed his face muscles.  The bandage over his nose was hard and obscured his view of his friends.  Without thinking, he lifted a hand to remove the irritating cast.

That little action seemed to snap the silence in the room.  Before his fingers could close around the hardened plaster, all the people in the room seemed to leap from their seats and making loud noises of surprise.  Someone grabbed his hand, keeping it away from his nose and pulled his attention to her.  He noticed many things about her that he would not normally see or care about; like how she’d cut her hair in a new style, or how she was wearing casual clothes – a nice green shirt that made him feel calm for reasons he could not remember – and jeans.  Her eyes seemed tired and the way that Baek came up behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder was unmistakable.  All these little details seemed to stand out to the Blood Talon in that split second; even the fact that she seemed the least surprised out of everyone there.

“It’s about time you woke up,” Yon said, giving his hand a squeeze before stepping back to let everyone else crowd around the bed.

Evidence of Baek’s fight with Kazuya was still evident in the bandage that covered his one arm and in the way he moved to Hwoarang’s side.  The Blood Talon looked up at his teacher, suddenly thinking this was his chance to set things straight with the whole military fuck-up.  Whatever they had told him, any lies that said Hwoarang was a murderer or traitor or whatever could be cleared up… and yet, Baek’s smile seemed to erase any fears Hwoarang had.  It was as if he already knew, or was sorry himself.

Hwoarang could not remember the last time he had seen the older man smile and that little act cleared any doubts that Baek thought any less of him.  He felt the bandages tightening around his head as he smiled and then shifted his gaze away to Doyon.

His happy feelings from Baek shifted to ones of being overwhelmed as the blonde’s bright yellow shirt nearly blinded him.  It was even brighter than his hair (if that was possible) and his flip-flops made sound as he moved across the floor to get into Hwoarang’s face.  “Holy shit, you’re awake!”

Hwoarang rolled his eyes a bit at the volume.  “Yeah… damnit, stop yelling.  My hearing is fine.”  He grunted as Doyon reached out to shove him a bit. 

“My _man_!  Nothing can keep you down!  I should have placed bets or something!”

“I’m still injured…” Hwoarang rolled his eyes, trying to be convincing.

“Not much,” Doyon said, reaching out to touch the redhead.  He squeezed Hwoarang’s shoulder reassuringly before shifting over to his back, searching for the elusive wings, his expression dropping a fraction when he realized they had gone.

“So, where’s Jin?” Hwoarang looked away, pressing his palms into the mattress, trying to sit up.  He felt hands on him, pushing him down and he looked at Yon.  “The hell?”

“I know you’re probably fine,” she started, but her voice was firm and unmoving.  “But you’ve been in a coma twice, and I don’t care what abilities you have to heal yourself.  You’re going to stay put until we can examine you again.  Properly.”

“But what about Jin?” Hwoarang could not keep the spark of anxiousness from his question.  He looked to Baek who seemed to agree. 

Doyon shrugged.  “I figured the bad shit that was happening to you was happening to him too.  We got him a room across the hall to keep him close… but he hasn’t woken up since his fight with you.”  He shrugged, then flinched as Moon smacked him. 

She glared at the blonde before smiling back at Hwoarang.  “Don’t go visiting him until you’re better,” she picked Sun up and braced him against her shoulder.  “It’s nice to know you’re better, ‘Rang.  I’m tired and going to sleep.  Now.  See you later.”  She turned to leave, pausing only to look over her shoulder and Doyon seemed to follow like a scared puppy.

“Right,” he turned his head, not daring to stop walking as his flip-flops sounded.  “Hurry up and get better so we can start spending some of your _mon~ey_.  I’ll help, I’ve got some idea- OW!” he exclaimed as Moon did something just outside the room.

Yon and Baek stood to leave as well; the doctor leading the way for the older fighter who moved stiffly to the foot of the bed.  Baek seemed to hesitate, his face unreadable, his fist tightening by his side as he gave a half-smile and nodded.  Hwoarang never looked away as his mentor left the room, feeling as if things were right in his life once more.  Now that Baek was alive and away from the military all was right.

Well… that wasn’t true.  The real reason his life was turned on its ear for the better was lying in the room across the hall.  Hwoarang shuddered as he pressed himself against the mattress, waiting for the footsteps to fade down the hallway and the quiet of the hospital to take over.  He had played this game before, listening for potential interruptions before doing what he wanted.  Baek and Yon’s voices faced away, interrupted by the far-off bell of the elevator arriving and leaving, signalling to the Blood Talon knew he was truly alone. 

He lied there for a moment longer, watching the moonlight shining into the room, falling across his bed.  His feet created mountains under the white hospital blankets and he decided he had seen too many hospitals in too short a time.  He hated them before, but that feeling was starting to deepen.  He wriggled his toes, watching the mountains move in the moonlight and he waited for Angel’s tone, telling him to do something.  He was actually surprised that she had not commented on the outcome of the tournament at all.  He closed his eyes, trying to remember the dream that he had experienced while asleep.  It had been very important, and he knew that Jun had paid him a visit, but the more he tried to remember, the more it unravelled.  He remembered her white dress, and silvery-white feathers, but when he tried to chase the feathers, the words muted and her mouth shifted silently.

He frowned; his mind felt empty.

He frowned further, no, not empty, but rather it was all his again.

He rolled his eyes when the vague impression of loneliness flitted across his emotions.  “Good,” he sighed, looking at the flowers and cards propped up along the windowsill.  “Thanks, though… for everything.”

He thought he could feel her grumble in response, saying he owed her next time, but he chalked it up to brain damage and chuckled as he flung the blankets aside, ready to get the hell out of there.

His muscles resisted when he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and immediately regretted moving so soon.  He hopped onto the cool floor and his head began pounding with the change in position, his legs wobbling beneath him as he fought to remain standing.  The bed was, blessedly, stable and he flailed backwards, clinging to the metal railings for dear life as he tried to come to grips with the surging vertigo.

“Ungh,” he muttered, bowing his head and pressing a hand to his temple.  It took a moment before he could feel the pressure abating from his temples, flowing back into the rest of his body to fuel everything else that hurt.  Why was he so sore?  Last time Angel had healed him completely.  He chastised himself for the question as soon as it formed.  “Heh, whatever, I don’t need your help,” he said to no one in particular.  “I’ll fucking heal, _my_ way.”

The Blood Talon straightened his back, feeling several joints popping at the movement and he hobbled forward.  He padded across the floor, detaching himself from the intravenous and any other devices the physicians had seen fit to hook up to him.  He tightened the drawstring on the baggy, hospital pants, keeping them from hanging too low on his hips as he approached the door and pressed his back to the wall to peek out.  It was habit, instinct, but he did not want to walk into any guards that might be outside – the hospital _was_ still under the control of the Zaibatsu.  Which he owned.

That thought kept churning in the back of his mind as he pushed the door open to step across the dimly-lit hallway.  The door opposite his room was closed, though not locked.  He wrapped his fingers around the handle, opening it as quietly as possible and shutting it behind him with equal care as the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor broke the still night.

The room was a mirror image of his, equally as big with a large-screen television, furniture and an extra-large bed.  The Blood Talon moved through the room, noticing the windowsill teeming with flowers and cards.  Well, neither of them seemed to be wanting for fans, at least.  He glanced at Jin, sideways at first, but that first little glance pulled him in and he turned fully to see the other fighter and the extent of his condition.

It was… worse than he thought it would be.

“Oh, Jin…” he quickly moved to the bedside, taking in the damage he had caused.  Jin wore bandages around his head, his arm was in a cast and Hwoarang’s hand shook as he reached out to trace over Jin’s body.  He had done this.  The beeping machines and the utter stillness in the room churned in Hwoarang’s mind.  The fact that Jin had asked him to render his body to this point seemed like a weak reason that had made sense at the time, but fell short of making him feel any better.

All he could see were the angry and ugly bruises around Jin’s face and feeling the spring of anger welling up inside of himself.  He wanted to explode and just… do _something_!

Instead, he found himself pulling a chair close to the bed and biting his lip as he reached out to take Jin’s hand.  “You’ll be fine now,” he whispered, feeling his throat tighten and he clenched his jaw tightly.

Jin’s face remained serene, oblivious.  Patches of dark hair poked through the bandages around his head.  Hwoarang held Jin’s hand, worming his fingers into his closed palm and surprised when he felt something soft clutched inside.  Prying those fingers apart revealed a single, white feather.  The Blood Talon pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it like it would burst into flames if he looked away.  He looked down at Jin, realizing the other man had probably grabbed it in their fight and not let it go since then.  He spun it around, seeing the way the feather shone in the darkness, though, its edges were tinged with sweat from being trapped in Jin’s hand and… it seemed as if it were red in parts; the colour seeping along the edges and travelling inwards.  “Damnit,” he looked back to Jin and thought of Angel’s power.  He had used that power to heal Hitch, and now he was shit-outta-luck when he really needed her.  He clenched the feather in his palm.

Jin felt warm, much more comfortable than Hwoarang’s suddenly chilly extremities.  The Blood Talon winced as he leaned over the other man.  His heart was swelling, beating fast, and too fast as he leaned closer, cupping Jin’s face with his hand.  He could feel the steady, low breathing of the other man against his lip.  He breathed heavily through his nose, knowing it was all he could do.  All he _wanted_ to do as he lowered his mouth to rest against Jin’s in a one-sided kiss.

He pulled away after a moment, gasping for breath as he felt Jin’s aura buzzing with energy.  His heart skipped a beat at that feeling, “C’mon, Kazama.  Wake up already.” Hwoarang closed his eyes and spread his fingers along Jin’s jaw, pushing them out along his neck.  He knew Jin was hurt, but he just had this feeling… a feeling that he wanted Jin with him right then.  He was desperate for it as his own blood rushed through his veins, numbing him to everything else except Jin.

Moments passed with his breathing loud in his ears, blank emptiness staring back at him from his closed eyelids.  His heart beat at a steady, fast rhythm, jumping into his throat when hands snapped up to take his jaw in a steely grip.

“H-hey, that was quick,” the redhead breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes snapping open.

Jin’s onyx eyes were hazy as they searched the redhead’s face for something familiar.  Hwoarang met his look, tightening his grip, digging his fingers into the bandages to tangle in his lover’s black mane.

Jin’s waking state passed quickly and those hazy, dark eyes snapped to immediate recognition before he smiled.

“Kazama?” Hwoarang asked.  “Are you alright?  You don’t have amnesia or anything, do you?”

Jin’s brow quirked up in a questioning look before he snapped forward and engaged Hwoarang’s mouth in a kiss that left reality to fall behind.  Their lips seemed to recall everything, embracing and caressing each other as their tongues pressed forward to renew old acquaintances.  It was magnetic and powerful and neither man moved to break the connection.

“I… take that… as a ‘no’?” Hwoarang asked between kisses, his cheeks burning wet.

Finally, Jin pulled back, his dark eyes dancing.  “No, that’s not a problem,” he sighed, reaching up to touch the bandages around his head.  “I remember everything.”  He smiled again before tilting his head.  “So, what did you think you were doing… there?” He indicated a few moments ago.

“Uh, trying to wake sleeping beauty with a kiss?” Hwoarang ventured, giving him a lopsided grin.

“I guess you think you’re a prince or something, then?”

“Yeah, Kazama, I’m your knight in shining white armour.  I’m gonna save you from the black knight and take you away to my castle.”

“White really isn’t your style, though,” Jin sighed, his eyes flicking up for a moment.

“Yeah, that’s why it was me that beat Jinpachi.”  Hwoarang puffed out his chest before wincing a bit.  “Angel helped, but I beat that fossil on my own.”

“What?” Jin’s smile dropped and he looked genuinely confused.  “Who won the tournament?”

“Me!  I just said I beat the last opponent!”

Jin was incredulous, “Well… I guess you won, then.  Congratulations.”

“Of course,” Hwoarang continued, choosing to ignore Jin’s bait.  “I own the Zaibatsu now.  But I don’t give a shit about that crap, so I’ll probably sell it off and keep the money…”

Jin smiled, “I thought you might.  I couldn’t picture you in a business suit, anyways.”

“What, you saying I can’t handle it?” Hwoarang could not hold back his grin as he felt someone doubting his abilities.

“Oh, God, Hwoarang.  That wasn’t a challenge,” Jin groaned, rolling his eyes.  “You won the tournament.  I guess that means our rivalry is decided, eh?”  He looked hopeful.  “I guess you’re better than-”

“Fuck that!” Hwoarang burst out.  “That was hardly a real fight.  There was fucked up shit going on and you _know_ it.  We both had help and hindrances, so it doesn’t count.  The rivalry still stands!”  He tried pulling back to prove his irritation.

Jin did not let go of Hwoarang and pulled him closer.

“Besides,” the redhead purred, leaning in closer.  “Maybe I _feel_ like trying to run the Zaibatsu… I could call tournaments whenever I wanted and fight you all the time.”

“I don’t want to fight you all the time,” Jin frowned.  “There are other things to life than fighting.”

Hwoarang felt his smile dropping at the words.  “I know,” he said, feeling his emotions trailing up his throat as he said the two words.  He pressed his lips to Jin’s.  Silencing any more words that followed and wordlessly telling the other man the three words that had taken root within him and burned between them.

Those three words ached inside his chest.  He couldn’t look Jin in the eye when they parted; it was too much for him to take.

The silence burned between them, neither man wanted to release their hold on the other.  After a long moment, Jin tugged Hwoarang’s shirt, indicating he could climb onto the bed.

“There’s plenty of room,” he said softly.

“You’re…” Hwoarang breathed, his mind racing for something to say.  “You’re, not going to make me sleep on the floor like in the cabin?” he quirked a grin and looked back to Jin.

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes.  “You sure know how to hold a grudge,” he shifted to the side to give the redhead enough room.

The mattress shifted beneath Hwoarang’s weight as he lied on his side, facing Jin who remained on his back.  He could feel the heat radiating out from him.  It had been so long since he’d been with Jin and not had Angel somewhere in his mind, or been thinking about the shit that Devil was saying.

It was just the two of them; they were completely and utterly alone.

The time felt right to say something meaningful.

Something from the heart.

Something to make Jin happy and make his own heart flutter a bit.

But all Hwoarang could do was lie there, watching Jin’s dark eyes glistening in the blackness as the shadows of the room swallowed their forms as they fell asleep.


	46. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Googling "expensive suit" got me [this site](http://most-expensive.net/mens-suit-retail) that has some of the most expensive suits listed!  I'd initially listed the 6G suit, but then Kat and I decided that the Kiton suit (in pinstripe!) would be sexier, since we both like pinstripes.  They're sexy.

The elevator chimed as the car carried the two men up.  Higher and higher until the final bell sounded and the doors ceremoniously slid open, revealing the penthouse suite.

Hwoarang stalked through the doors with a hulking gait, his shoulders hunched under the tailored suit jacket.  The black garment quickly found its way to the floor as the Korean turned around, already pulling the tie free from his neck.  “Shit, Kazama,” he growled, facing the other man who followed a few steps behind, treading around the expensive Kiton suit jacket.  “This thing is too stiff and uncomfortable.  Can’t we get something else?”

The dark-haired man bowed his head to hide his smile, comfortably slipping his hands into the pockets of his own near-six-thousand-dollar suit.  “I think you look nice,” he chuckled.  “Maybe running the Zaibatsu really isn’t for you?” he added.  It had been nearly six months since the King of Iron Fist Tournament that had earned the fiery Korean the title of champion as well as the prize of the company.  He had taken control of the Zaibatsu with only a few hiccups, much to everyone’s surprise.  To the whole world he was the perfect rags-to-riches story and was the perfect head of a company that had, until that point, been geared towards genetic testing and military support.  The redhead had marched in, turned everything on its ear and the dust was just starting to settle with the entire organization falling into line under his boot.

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes to shoot Jin a sultry look.  “I’m doing alright with this business thing, Kazama.  It’s just this monkey suit that kills me, it’s so stuffy…” he pulled the dress shirt apart, ripping a few buttons in the process, and tossed it over the leather couch.  He turned his back to Jin as he kicked off his shoes and began removing his belt.  “Is it too soon to call another tournament?”

“Wait maybe another month,” Jin looked at the clothing balled up in a heap before seeming to decide against picking it up and just leaving it where it lay.  “If you’re itching for a fight…” he trailed off, catching Hwoarang’s attention.  “I don’t have any plans right now.”  His dark eyes flashed.

Hwoarang stopped moving, his back going rigid before he spun around with a glint in his eye.  He caught Jin by surprise, digging his fingers in, wrinkling the expensive clothing.  “It’s not like you to pick a fight, Kazama,” Hwoarang purred, stepping closer until he could feel the heat radiating from Jin’s body.  “Are you really anxious to go right now?”

“A-actually,” Jin breathed, wrapping his fingers around Hwoarang’s wrists and squeezing tightly.  “I’m itching for something else…”  His dark eyes slid shut as the two fighters drew closer, pressing their mouths together.  They kissed with the desire of a pair of ravenous beasts, starved all day with nothing to satisfy them but hungry glances exchanged over a boardroom table.

Hwoarang spun them around, backing Jin into the wall and pinning him there as his hands made short work of his clothing.  He dug his fingers into Jin’s shoulders, the harsh action muffled by the thick material.  He groaned as he felt Jin’s muscles beneath the cotton barrier and he moved to rip at the buttons.  His fingers clumsily pulled at Jin’s tie, all-but tearing the shirt open and pushing the expensive clothing off his shoulders.

As the suits were peeled away, so were the corporate identities they’d developed to fit into the Zaibatsu. 

Jin was not cut out to sit in board meetings, dictating notes to an assistant who wore entirely too much perfume.  He was a long way away from Yakushima and what he thought of as _him_.

Hwoarang was the square peg shaved down and forced into the circular hole; he was uncomfortable and essentially didn’t fit, but he’d be damned if anyone pushed him out of that hole!  He grunted and groaned every time he pulled the suit on, gritting his teeth when he faked a smile and leaned heavily on Jin to listen to his complaints.  He was surprisingly successful running the company – after digging for some extra help on the side – though, he secretly worried that his flexibility was going to shit because he hadn’t seen the inside of a dojo in a week and he’d taken up smoking again just for something to do.

But it was in moments like then, after the phone stopped ringing but the sun was still visible in the skyline, reddening the clouds to a warm rusty hue and the entire world shone into their suite.  The two fighters would press their bodies together, their mouths slowing in their caresses in the waning sunlight.

Jin sighed audibly and kneaded Hwoarang’s back, murmuring about how the redhead felt a little tense.  “Boardrooms really aren’t your thing, ‘Rang.”  The Korean grunted and moved in to kiss him again, worming his hands between them to loosen Jin’s trousers as well. 

The dark-haired man tilted his head back just as the cascade of bites and licks started along his jawline.  He couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped, like a wave of tension was released and all their daytime worries melted away. 

Hwoarang shivered and his hands gripped Jin tighter.  He straightened up and dragged the dark-haired man across the marble floor to the bedroom, the remainder of their clothing getting lost along the way.

The Japanese man fell gracelessly onto the plush, king-sized mattress.  He bounced once, letting his entire body go limp before shifting back, playfully arching out of the way as the Korean crawled over top of him and then ventured lower.  His bare skin slid against the silky sheets, making little sound as he shifted beneath his lover’s weight.  He looked down the length of his body, his gaze meeting the steady stare of the redhead’s amber gaze.  “I…” he blushed, fidgeting.  “I hate it when you stare at me like that.”

“I just like making you blush like that, Kazama,” Hwoarang nipped at the inside of Jin’s thigh.  “It makes you look like a blushing virgin.”

Jin winced, trying to decide if the bite hurt more than he liked it.  “Shut up and fuck me,” he finally breathed and threw his leg over Hwoarang’s shoulder, inviting the other man to open him up.

A small squeak escaped the Korean’s throat as his aura darkened to one consumed by arousal.  He dipped his head low, briefly taking Jin in his mouth before proceeding lower.  He was so hot – they both were – and Jin thought he would explode as he felt his lover’s tongue pushing inside him.  He spread his thighs wider and gnawed on his fist as Hwoarang began the slow, agonizing ritual of preparation.  He tilted his hips up as the redhead spread him apart, licking at one of the most private areas of his body.  Jin clenched his muscles and inhaled sharply.  “Can… oh, God, can’t you hurry up?” he nearly mewled as he felt the other man press his fingers inside his tight passage.  “I’m _ready_ , Hwoarang.”

“Oh, I know you are, Kazama,” the redhead grinned and crawled up the length of Jin’s body, making a show of wiping his mouth as he did.  “I just like hearing those noises you make,” he positioned himself above Jin’s body, bearing down as he guided his arousal to the entrance of Jin’s body before pausing.

The dark-haired fighter arched up, snapping his hips to drive Hwoarang’s erection into his body, drawing him in with one fluid, harsh movement.  “If you’re feeling too stressed,” Jin said.  “I can do the work for you,” he kept his voice low and controlled while wrapping an arm around Hwoarang’s shoulders for purchase.  “Maybe we should reverse our positions…”

“Shut up, Kazama,” Hwoarang seemed to snap into character and he pinned the dark-haired man to the bed.  His body slammed downward, meeting Jin’s upward thrusts and he ground his hips in erratic circles as they fucked like wild animals.  Their mouths came together in a clash of tongues and teeth, biting and licking in a fight for dominance and the need to be closer to one another.

Nails dug in, sliding along sweat-slicked backs and shoulders, chests and thighs.  Their bodies molded together, forming around, against and inside one another.  Their deep, tenors growled wordlessly as their movements became more fevered and frantic; driving up and down, in and out.  Their breathing turned into short, erratic gasps that grew more desperate… frantic…

Jin forced his eyes open, locking them with Hwoarang’s amber orbs as he felt his body grinding to a halt.  The moment lingered, their breaths mingling between them as the muscles wound up within him.  His nerves seemed to twitch in warning before exploding into the flames of release that claimed and ravaged a part of his soul he kept locked away.  He howled his release only for Hwoarang, never looking away. 

Jin gnashed his teeth, biting his lip as Hwoarang held him down, forcing him to ride out his orgasm wave after wave after seizure-inducing wave.  He shuddered as he felt a warm heat filling him, and was only semi-conscious of his name echoing on Hwoarang’s lips.

He choked on a cry; jerking his hips to the side as his nerves rubbed raw and he still craved more.  He panted, wishing simultaneously for it to be over, and at the same time, never end, hissing the redhead’s name like a bloody mantra the entire time.

He pressed his hands to Hwoarang’s shoulders, letting the other man to finally collapse against him as he held him tightly.  Whatever had been bothering him about that day had left his mind.  His fingers wound their way through Hwoarang’s mane, twisting the ruddy locks between his middle and forefingers as he basked in the afterglow.

They lay like that for a long while until Hwoarang pushed back and raised his hand to cup Jin’s face.  He took a breath, as if to say something before his amber eyes seemed to shift and he pressed a kiss to Jin’s lips instead.  His mouth was firm and soft, possessive and pliant, giving as much as he took. 

“You always know how to ruin my moods,” Hwoarang finally sighed.  “I was so pissed, and now I can’t remember what that jackass said to me at that damn meeting.”

Jin smirked as Hwoarang pulled out of him and rolled over, listening to the familiar click as the redhead lit a cigarette.  “I don’t know what you mean,” he said coyly.  He lied back and propped his arms behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling – his reflection staring back at him from the ceiling mirror in all its naked, spent glory.  “I’ve noticed you’re losing your temper more often, lately,” he commented, shifting his gaze to his lover.  “Threatening clients isn’t good for business.”

“Well, they shouldn’t be such pricks!” Hwoarang angrily flicked his cigarette.  “Great, now I remember why I was pissed!”

“Why don’t we go away for a bit?” Jin offered suddenly, imagining Yakushima and their friends they had left behind.  He had written to Inoue once or twice but hadn’t heard back from her.  He was aching to go back.

Hwoarang seemed to spring to life.  “Ye~ah!  Now you’re talking, Kazama.  That guy has been bugging me to visit him, too!”  He rolled over, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed as he reached for his phone.  “Yo, Amy,” he nearly shouted into the receiver, no-doubt bothering their assistant during her time off.  “I need you to cancel our appointments and book us a plane to Korea… yes, cancel them all!” he nearly laughed, butting his smoke in a silver ashtray.  “No… no, I don’t give a shit.  Jin and I are going back home and I want you to make sure this place keeps running.  Hire whoever you need to deal with the bullshit.”

Jin rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow.  “I meant visiting Yakushima,” he tilted his head as the phone receiver clicked back into the cradle.

“Really?” Hwoarang rolled onto the bed and stretched an arm over Jin’s shoulder.  “You should have said that, I just got us a trip to visit Doyon and everyone else.”

Jin recalled their first encounter with Doyon and the way the noisy man in the loud shirt had burst into their hotel room, interrupting something that could have been fun.  The dark-haired fighter had visions of the same thing happening over and over and over again the entire time they were there.  If they were staying there on Doyon’s turf, guaranteed the pudgy blonde wouldn’t leave them alone.  He narrowed his eyes and drew closer to the other man.  “Fine,” he breathed with a hint of irritation.  He nuzzled the redhead’s neck before suddenly grabbing him and throwing against the mattress.  He climbed on top and nipped at his jaw.

“Kaza-? What the hell?” Hwoarang tried to crawl away, but Jin pinned him down with the strength of determination.

“I won’t get another chance to do this,” he purred and pressed his mouth to Hwoarang’s.  “Not if that friend of yours has any say in it,” he laughed breathlessly, pressed his forehead to Hwoarang’s, and kissed him again.

They moved, their bodies latching together like two pieces that were meant to fit with each other.  Their stiff business suits were forgotten, strewn around the bed and trailing out the doorway and away from the lovers.  In the morning, they would walk over the crumpled silk and scattered Kiton suit pieces, leaving the clothing behind to escape to something more familiar and a part of their characters.

Somewhere there was a city with a vibrant soul calling to them with a gritty allure, its voice echoing alongside that of an island that beckoned with its ancient forests and misty waterfalls.  The two fighters collapsed against each other, tired fingers pressed into warm skin and they settled in under the thin bed sheets, quickly falling into dreams beautiful yet unremembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Closing Notes:** Well... it's over. I'm... still in shock, I think. I've been writing this fiction since January 2007, and it's now August 2008. It has been such a part of my waking days, always the first project I open when on my computer. I don't think I can think straight at the moment. I have other projects to work on (many I've had on hold) but I'm so used to these multi-chaptered things. Well, here's another that I can say I'm happy with and can say I've completed. I've learned quite a bit about writing and plotting, not to mention developed a healthy obsession with [Yakushima](http://nosferatu-blue.livejournal.com/174922.html)!
> 
> I want to thank you for getting this far and sticking with this story to the very end. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this massive project. Writing about Yakushima had to be my favourite part of this hands down, though, I did enjoy flexing my writing muscles to learn how to write fights. All-in-all it has been a wonderful experience, though which I have met many lovely people. I sincerely thank you for your time and interest in this story. I loved writing it, but I seriously smile in happiness to know someone has enjoyed it as well.


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